


A Light Through That Window

by AuburnRed



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Canon Disabled Character, Disability, Family Drama, Friendship, Gen, Prostitution, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuburnRed/pseuds/AuburnRed
Summary: Sam leaps into the body of an orderly at a mental institution in 1953, and learns some painful discoveries personally concerning his best friend, Al.
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue: Guys Like Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home from work, 19-year-old, Al Calavicci recalls his life and possible future.

A Light Through That Window  
A Quantum Leap Fanfic  
By Auburn Red

Not mine. These characters belong to Donald Bellissaro and NBC. The fic title comes from a line in the Seal song, "Prayer For The Dying."("There is a light through that window/Hold on say yes while people say no!/Life carries on/It goes on") That song, "Faith of the Heart" by Rod Stewart/Russell Watson (gee wonder why that one?), "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of" by U2, "A Shoulder to Cry On" by Tommy Page, "Trouble Me" by 10,000 Maniacs and "Anytime You Need A Friend" by Mariah Carey were huge inspirations for this fic.

Summary: When Sam leaps into the body of an orderly at a mental institution in 1953, he learns some long hidden painful discoveries that personally concern his best friend.

Author's Note: This fic occurs in the present after Mirror Image. I may expand on this scenario at a future date. What happens is that Sam returned home, but now chooses to heed the call as Leaper. So, he is able to hover between the present and the past. Since his rendezvous at Al's Bar, he discovers that he is more in control of his abilities. His Swiss Cheese memory is gone and he is able to recall events not only from his own life, but from the various Leaps. He also had gone beyond his lifetime into the past and future. Al remains as his Observer and recalls his original timeline and the altered one.  
Alia in a bout of redemption joins PQL and uses her own Leaper abilities to right the wrongs of the past and prevent the wrongs of the future sometimes serving as backup Leaper in case Sam is in trouble with Dr. Verbena Beeks, acting as her Observer. (In fact, Alia and Verbena were instrumental in helping Sam return home). She has earned the trust and respect of most of her colleagues, particularly Sam who became her strongest supporter in joining the Project, with the exception of Al who still finds it difficult to entirely trust or forgive her for her actions as a once-Evil Leaper.

Prologue: Guys Like Him

Chapter Summary: Home from work, 19 year old Al Calavicci thinks about his life and his hopes for the future.

March 1,1953-Al Calavicci practically staggered back to his apartment after a long night at the factory. He slapped his forehead to force himself awake, remembering that he still had the breakfast and lunch shift at the diner. He only had enough time to go home, have a quick shower, and exchange one uniform to another before work. Then in the afternoon, he might catch some z's, if he was lucky. His movements and expression belied his age. He was 19 years old, but felt like he was 40. 

"Yoo-hoo," a drunken female voice called. Al turned around to see an attractive older woman leering at him. Her red hair hung loose around her neck and a neglige covered her bra and girdle. She saucily ran her fingers along the rim of her martini glass. Al wanted to make some joke about it being a bit too early in the morning, but his brain was too fatigued to come up with anything. She looked him up and down in a teasing manner. "Al, I have been waiting for you," she said.  
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sawyer, I had a late shift and-", he began when Mrs. Marilyn Sawyer put a finger up to his lips to shush him.  
"Oh that's alright, darling," she said. "My husband is away again and I need a strong man to move some furniture for me."  
"What kind of furniture?" Al asked. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what the old bat really wanted. He did it many times before.  
"Just a couch, a love seat, and a few other things," Mrs. Sawyer said."You know I always pay you."

Al nodded. Mrs. Sawyer always paid for his "services," sometimes gave him a break on rent. Sometimes she even loaned him out to some of her friends. Okay, technically that made Al Calavicci a whore. But he had to earn a living. He desperately needed the money. His jobs were crap and paid less than diddly. It wasn't the only time he had committed illegal acts to earn money. He had been a pickpocket as a kid among other things.  
He hadn't been a virgin since he was fifteen. He occasionally got lucky over the years, and was a flirt. Might as well get paid for something he was good at. As for self-respect and all of the rest of that shit, well fuck that! That flew out the window when his father died. Self-respect wasn't going to give him what he needed.  
"I'll make it worth your while," the landlady teased him.  
"I gotta go to work," Al sighed. "I'll come by this afternoon." So much for the nap.  
"See you then," the older woman said. "I don't want to have to put you out to stud."  
"I'll be there," Al promised knowing Mrs. Sawyer's libido could never be satisfied with only one tenant. He unlocked the door thinking angrily to himself, Fuck it, might as well be a whore!

Al leaned against the door to his studio apartment getting a second to catch his breath. He then removed his leather jacket and took the cash from his wallet. He knelt down and opened a bottom cabinet drawer and pulled out a jar. He unscrewed the top lid and put the money inside. The money almost reached the top of the brim. There might just be enough at least after his tips for this morning and tending to Mrs. Sawyer's needs. He'll have to count just to be sure later.  
He turned the jar to face the photograph that stared back at him. It was an old black and white picture that showed a young girl in a white dress and veil smiling in preparation for her First Communion. Even in the photograph, she wore a smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts. Her slanted eyes, vacant expression, and round features revealed her disability, that the girl in the picture was considered mentally disabled. While Al recognized that, what he saw in that picture was a girl who responded only with love even to those who didn't deserve it. It angered him that no one else saw that.  
Al kissed the tip of his fingers and placed his fingers on the girl in the picture's face. "Soon, Trudy, it will be soon," he said out loud to the spirit of his younger sister.

Al looked closer at the photograph and mentally added some amusing details about the Communion clothing: that it's hemline was crooked, the veil didn't hang straight, and there were plenty of slipped stitches and slight tears in the fabric. In short, it looked like it was made by a child which in fact was the case. Al recalled how he stayed awake many nights, stitching and sewing the fabric until his eyes ached from the dim lights and his fingers raw and bloody from the needles, and ripping apart and redoing it multiple times until he got it right. It didn't matter to him that other boys would have called him a sissy for doing woman's work. It was for Trudy and that was all that mattered to him.  
Al didn't even get the big deal about the ceremony. Even before he lost his faith after his father's death, Al simply considered church as just a big fancy building where he kneeled up and down and fell asleep during sermons. He didn't care one way or another, but it meant something to Trudy.  
She practically hugged the life out of him when he finished the dress and let her try it the first time. She twirled around so happy to be wearing the "Princess Dress" that her "Allie" had made. Delighted for his sister but hiding it behind an older brother's typical show of coolness and embarrassment, Al just hid his still pained fingers and told Trudy that he was glad she liked it and to please not get it dirty, while his shining eyes revealed his true feelings, happy because his sister was happy.  
It also meant something to his father. Vincent Calavicci was a quiet man of deep faith and a kind heart. In what turned out to be the last year of his life, he had been so sick and was in such pain. Any acknowledgement to his faith lifted his spirits and the fact that his son had given so much selfless time and energy to do something that special for his sister, all while nursing his sick father and taking care of the disabled girl was a true testament to his Catholic beliefs of sacrifice and devotion.

Besides what choice did he have? Usually, the job of making the Communion dress fell to the mother and the two children didn't have one since the bitch ran off with the Encyclopedia salesman. Al had been Trudy's "mother" for three years after their birth one left and even the four years before that.  
From the moment that his father put his newborn sister into his almost four year old hands and explained in terms that a child could understand that his sister was different and would always need someone to protect and take care of her, Al realized that job was his. He went from rocking his sister in her crib whenever she cried, holding her hand when she fell down, singing lullabies, playing games, and telling stories (always doing funny voices) to entertain her or make her laugh, to as he grew tending to her daily needs, to accepting the beatings that their mother and her "friends" gave that were meant for her, to defending her from the other kids in the neighborhood to when they called her names and threw rocks at her, to after his mother left cooking meals, cleaning their home, shopping, and doing the laundry and the million of other things that a mother is supposed to do for their child.

Yes he was Trudy's mother and would now have to be her father too. That also was going to be tough. He needed to get a bigger place for them and a better job. (He was certainly not going to work for Mrs. Sawyer while his sister was around, well at least not while she was awake and aware of it anyway). He knew that his father had high hopes for him wanting to be somebody.  
On his deathbed, Vince made his son swear that he would change the world. When he was younger, he dreamt of becoming a pilot, maybe become a high ranking military officer or thanks to reading Science Fiction pulp novels, maybe even go to the moon or fly to other planets. To fly, to escape, and get away from the problems on Earth. To see the land down below and how small it is that was his dream. But he knew dreams never came true, not for guys like him .  
Guys like him didn't do great things! Guys like him didn't become officers! They were just cannon fodder so the rich guys wouldn't have to go to war! Oh he registered for Selective Service, but knew that nothing would come of it! Guys like him didn't go to the moon! They just looked at it during their cigarette breaks or make out sessions and dreamt that things would get better! Guys like him definitely didn't change the world! Guys like him had unfinished educations, huge chips on their shoulders, and slaved away at lousy jobs hoping to earn enough money to get through the work week! He was a factory worker, a waiter and short order cook, and now a whore! That's all he was and all he was ever going to be. As long as Al got Trudy back and could provide for her, that was reason enough to hope. He wasn't going to think or expect anything else beyond that.

He didn't regret any of it, not the crap jobs, the shitty apartment, even the work he did for Mrs. Sawyer. He would sell his soul to fucking Satan if it meant that he could have his little sister back. He made a million sacrifices for Trudy and would do it all over again in a instant.  
Nine years, nine long years that he spent away from her: living in the orphanage, then running away and hoping to be with her. The times when he lived with Black Magic Walters and carried the vain hope that Walters would be able to take both of them in ("I doubt that they'd let me take in a touched white girl and make her my legal daughter and you my legal son but we can always hope."). Only to be sent to the orphanage again when Black Magic was arrested because of some idiotic prejudice that Al hated but could do nothing about. The times he worked as an actor and stopped when he knew the slamming doors and failed auditions were never going to give him what he needed. The times when he spent money that he didn't have hiring private investigators when the police couldn't find her after she was moved from the institution in which she was originally placed to another one, but they wouldn't say where on account of Al not being Trudy's legal guardian. Then the P.I.'s proved to be useless for anything except spending the money that a naive 16 year old gave him to track down his little sister.  
He just kept saving and hoping for the day when he could find her, pull her from that institution, and she could be with him once more.

Al wearily rose from his thoughts and walked towards the shower. He couldn't think anymore. He had a full day's work ahead.


	2. Chapter One: Mind Over Leaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Al's friendship is tested when Sam leaps into the body of an orderly at a mental institution and they see someone from Al's past

A Light Through That Window  
A Quantum Leap Fanfic  
By Auburn Red

Chapter One: Mind Over Leaping 

"Oh boy!"  
Leaping into a new body is never easy and some situations made it even more difficult. This was one of those situations.  
Dr. Sam Beckett adjusted to the latest predicament, not an easy thing when one guy tried to crush his windpipe and the other guy was restraining the person doing the crushing. The crusher was a small man who appeared to be in his early fifties with a severely cut buzz of gray hair. Even though he appeared frail, his grip was actually quite strong.  
"Get him, Jack!" The defender said. He was also a powerful man, but younger late twenties and dark haired. It took a half-second before Sam realized the other man was calling him! Sam snapped to it and pushed the man's hand off him and together they managed to pin him to a wall.  
"You can't keep me here," the older man said. "I am the Czarevitch Alexei Romanov and as the heir to the Russian throne, I insist that you release me!"  
The defender rolled his eyes as he and Sam pushed the "Czarevitch Alexei Romanov" forward and wrestled him onto a nearby bed. Now that Sam was aware of his surroundings, he could see that they were both wearing orderly uniforms. "Sure, Your Majesty," the orderly said as if he heard this proclamation many times before. "Just got to take your Royal Medicine and we'll be on our way!" He nodded at a brunette woman in a nurse's uniform. "Nurse Marcus," he said.  
"I'm way ahead of you, Grady," the nurse agreed. She held up the syringe which was already filled with medicine. Sam and Grady managed to hold onto the man while he struggled in their grasp. She injected the needle into his arm as the man's struggle became more subdued. Finally, he calmed down long enough for Sam to further assess the situation.  
He glanced at his reflection in a nearby window. Even though, the outside view was wet and foggy on account of the heavy rain, he managed to get a good look at his new body. He appeared to be in his late twenties and was a large and muscular man with very short red hair.  
Now that Sam was free of the struggle, he became aware that there were other men in the room. They sat or stood in a haphazard manner. All of them wore some kind of uniform and had strange expressions in their eyes. Some were lying in chairs or on the floor motionless and wearing restraints. Others yelled at the top of their lungs. A couple of others were engaged in conversations with either each other or to the air. This all seemed somehow familiar to him. Sam and Grady snapped the restraining strap on his attacker's arms and legs. Sam noticed for the first time that his arms and legs were covered in cuts and bruises. The truth dawned on Sam. "I'm in a mental institution!," He said aloud. Oh boy indeed!

Grady looked at his colleague confused. "Yeah same place that you were yesterday and the day before and the day before that! You've been working here as long as I have!"  
"I know," Sam began lamely. "It's just the days start to run together. It gets repetitive after awhile."  
"I don't know if you noticed Jack, but repetitive and boring are not usually part of our day," Grady smirked. "Our Resident Royal Pain in the Ass, Joe here, just tried to attack you, remember that. Not exactly a normal day at the office."  
"It could be worse you could be a patient here," the familiar grovely voice of his best friend and observer, Admiral Al Calavicci said as he appeared next to Sam dressed in a garish red and yellow striped shirt. He eyed Nurse Marcus taking a long lingering look at her legs before he continued. "Just be glad you only work here."  
Sam shuddered remembering the last time he had an assignment in a mental hospital. He was the patient being given shock therapy. Each shock opened up a former Leapee identity and Sam in his drugged daze admitted the truth about Project Starbright and Project Quantum Leap which they took to be a delusion. Under the circumstances, it could be worse. That wasn't too say that this job wasn't going to be easy, he could already tell that. He looked around at the patients wondering where his assignment was.  
"Okay what's going on Al," Sam asked.  
Grady stepped back and said snidely. "You taking after the patients there, Jack? What's going on is that it's feeding time at the zoo and we got to give the animals food and water."

Sam already didn't like the way Grady referred to the patients as animals. However, he followed the other orderly down the line giving sustenance to the patients as Al explained his assignment. "You are Jack Wiley born in 1925 Korean War Vet. Started working at this institution in 1952 and... that's all I can give you."  
Sam was extremely confused. "Nothing else, Al?"  
Al frantically punched the buttons. "Come on Zig, give to Daddy." He sighed in frustration.  
"Nothing Ziggy won't tell me anything, not the name of our assignment, the date. She won't even tell me where this place is," he looked closer confused by the reading on his hand link. "She says that it's in your best interest not to know yet." Furiously, he punched a few keys but the answer or rather non-answer remained the same. "Nothing," Al cursed under his breath. "Sam why did you have to give me the most aggravating piece of technology I have ever seen!" He punched the buttons a few more times. Yeah keep hitting it eight more times. That will make her work, Sam thought sarcastically. "Looks like we're flying blind," Al said.  
"Terrific," Sam muttered under his breath. 

As Sam gave one of the patients, a dark haired man in his early twenties, a bowl, he looked outside the window. "It's not dark yet is it, Mr. Wiley?" He asked rocking back and forth. "I don't like the dark," he continued to rock himself.  
"No," Sam said kindly. "It's just raining um," He looked at the paperwork. "Patrick. Sundown won't be for another few hours." Patrick responded by rocking back and forth again covering his head with his hands. Sam continued to try to speak calmly to the patients.  
When they reached the last patient, the two orderlies filled out the name and intake of each patient. The orderlies left that wing and entered a corridor. Sam noticed that Al lingered behind, looking disturbed by something. He was clearly uncomfortable. "Are you okay," Sam mouthed.  
"Yeah," Al said. "I just got this feeling, like I don't know something's not right."  
Sam agreed. The institution made him uncomfortable as well.

Grady and Sam moved a cart down the long narrow corridor with Nurse Marcus and Al following close behind. They stood in front of another door.  
"Got the women's list?" Grady asked Sam as Nurse Marcus unlocked the door.  
Sam looked down at the list that rested on top of the cart. The Leaper made a quick gesture with his hand for Al to come closer. He pointed at the letterhead. Belleville Institute for the Mentally Ill, Burlington New York.  
"Upstate New York near the Catskills," Al said. "Got lots of resorts around here with some bungalow bunnies.".  
Sam shook his head at his friend's impish nature. He was long used to it. That didn't explain why he was there or why Ziggy took it upon herself to not give that information. Was she purposely trying to keep something from Sam? If so what?  
Sam lightly looked at the list for the woman's side, hoping to discover what it was. He flipped through the pages until a last name caught his eye. Sam's eyes widened as he read the name between Burton, Dolores and Carter, Helen.  
"Oh boy," he said out loud as he read the name, Calavicci Theresa.

The name was close. He gulped. "What's today's date?" He asked. Al looked confused at his friend as Grady thought out loud. "Uh, the First March why?"  
"What year?" Sam asked.  
Grady scoffed. "Jack you really are getting like the patients here. It's '53." Sam felt his heart leap (pun not intended) into his throat as Al's long ago words haunted him. "How does a sixteen year old girl die from pneumonia in 1953, Sam?!"

He realized that Ziggy wasn't hiding anything from him, she was hiding something from Al! It was in Al's best interest to keep the news from him, that his little sister was a patient in this place. It took a half second before Sam covered up the name with his hand. Al noticed the gesture but didn't know why. "Sam what's going on?" Al asked.  
"Nothing," Sam said.  
"What?" Grady asked.  
"Nothing," Sam answered. Sam flipped the pages back but kept his hand on the paper as added insurance that his friend wouldn't try to catch a glimpse over his shoulder.  
"What are you doing, Sam?" Al asked mimicking Hal 9000.  
"Nothing," Sam said through clenched teeth.  
"Sam you and Ziggy are keeping something from me," Al said taking on a menacing good cop slowly turning to bad cop tone of voice.. "You found out something. Now tell me what it is."  
"No," Sam whispered. Al would find out soon enough.  
"So help me Sam," Al threatened. "If you don't tell me what you are hiding, I am going to do something that you will regret."  
Sam smirked. There wasn't anything Al could physically do to him since he was a hologram. "Try it."  
Al nodded. "Okay if it's going to be that way. This isn't going to hurt me more than I hope it hurts you." He then took his cigar out if his mouth and asked. "Did I tell you about the time that I made out with a pair of twins in the Paris Metro?..."

Unlike most pests, Al Calavicci did not go away if you ignored him. He continued his rambling story as they entered the room on the women's side. To Sam, it looked similar to the male side with the patients all scattered about with no order.  
"Nurse Marcus," a small blond woman in her late teens complained. "Helen took my crayons again last night."  
An older woman with a husky voice laughed. "Like I want your crayons. I was with Cary Grant all night."  
"I'm sure you enjoyed your time with Mr. Grant," the nurse humored the patient. "But leave Joanne alone." She smirked at Sam. "Another day at Happy Valley."

While Sam gave food to the female patients, Al continued his story about the French Twins, his voice becoming a drone in Sam's ears. "So there I was in the middle of rush hour, naked as a jaybird with these girls when their mother walked in, and she was hot real hot. I thought she was going to bawl me out for being with her daughters,but she wanted to join in…." He stopped his teasing manner and his face fell. He blanched and put his hands to his face as Sam approached the end of the room. Al moved slowly to the far end where a girl sat in a chair staring out the window. She was restrained by her hands, legs, and waist. 

Al moved closer as though not wanting to believe what his eyes told him, but there she was, not the seven year old girl that he last saw outside the cemetery as grown ups they didn't even know decided their fate. Not the girl screaming as authorities yanked her from his arms as young Al leaped forward ready to fight anyone who would dare take her from him, only to fall to the ground. No longer the child that Al saw through tear stained eyes as the car carried her further and further away from his sight.  
Instead, she was a sixteen year old teenager, almost a woman. She was dressed in a dirty gray uniform, her dark curly hair was severely cut to below her neck and hung haphazardly and her face had a blank subdued expression. She was bruised across her arms and legs and her right cheek had three scratches. Her temples were red and bruised.  
Al sank down to be next to her. He absently ran his hologrammed hand through her body. "Trudy?" Al whispered. He looked his sister up and down and frantically tried once more to touch her, hug her, give her some comfort, to let her know that after all this time that he was finally there. 

With tears in his eyes, Al covered his mouth with his fist too overcome to say anything. He tried to speak again, but was overcome once more. He gulped and threw caution to the wind, hoping that his sister understood him. He had to at least try. Dammit, he had to! "Trudy," he said. "It's Allie," calling himself by the nickname that his sister gave him. She gave no response that she heard him except that her eyes seemed to move slightly and her breathing changed. He tried again. "What did they do to you, Baby? Trudy, I'm here now. Allie's here. I'm not going anywhere." He kissed her forehead but his lips just went through her not able to touch flesh.  
Sam hovered close by realizing that he was looking at Al's long gone sister. Her brow was flushed and he could tell that she had a fever. She was round but more atrophied from lack of movement. Who knew how long she was catatonic?  
Sam's heart ached for his friend. They knew that Al could be seen and heard by small children, animals, people who were on the brink of death and those who were mentally ill. But they may not communicate back to him if they were in such a vegetative state. Trudy might see her brother and she might even hear him, but she may not be able to respond. Because of his holographic state, Al couldn't touch or hug his sister and let her know that he was there. Physically, they were in the same place but right now they couldn't have been more apart than if they were still separated.  
Al's eyes met Sam's. He didn't have to say anything but the Leaper knew that his friend was saying Help her!

"Looking at our puppy?" Nurse Marcus asked.  
"Sorry?" Sam asked.  
"You know Trudy, the puppy, the baby of the ward?" the nurse asked. "Whole hospital even."  
"What happened to her?" Sam asked.  
"Yeah what the fuck did you do to my sister?" Al asked rising ready to attack.  
"Aside from being a mongoloid?" Grady piped up. His hands near his head and made buzzing noises. "Shocker. Freak." Al clenched his fists and stood in a boxing stance punching the uncaring orderly but only succeeded in running his fist through the man's body.  
"Don't it won't help!" Sam said.  
"It'll help me, Sam," Al insisted as he longed to punch the orderly to show him every fighting move that the Admiral learned while studying boxing and in the military.

Thinking that Sam was talking to the orderly, Nurse Marcus turned to Grady. "He's right, Grady. Go do something else," Nurse Marcus said annoyed. "I'm not surprised you wouldn't know. It wasn't during your shift. She tried to run away again last night. Dr. McKendrick gave her another shock treatment. She was supposed to have a session today, but that's going to be postponed if she can't talk to him."  
"Shock treatment?" Al asked. He knelt back down to face his sister. "Trudy, please hear me. It's Allie," he said.  
Trudy blinked as if she were waking up for the first time. She heard a voice from far away, one that sounded familiar. Her voice was soft as she stammered. "A-A-Allie?" She doubled over into a hacking cough.  
Al smiled and nodded. "Yeah, Honey it's me. I tried so hard and so long to find you! I'm so sorry that I couldn't be with you sooner. But I'm here now, Honey and it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay."  
He tried to kiss her again but failed.  
Trudy's face seemed to gain light as recognition dawned on her. "Allie," she said timidly. Her voice gained some strength as she realized that her brother was nearby. Sam subtly approached the siblings. "Allie. Allie. Allie!" She coughed again.  
Nurse Marcus shook her head. "There she is saying 'Allie' over and over again. Sometimes I wonder what she means like she was attacked at an alley or something?"  
"Maybe she's talking about a person," Sam reasoned as he moved closer. "Like maybe an invisible friend." Al smiled at the suggestion. The nurse shrugged. 

With each repetition of her brother's name, Al's smile grew wider. In her perpetual innocence, Trudy had no passage of time. She would always recognize her brother no matter how old he was. "Yous looks like Poppy!"  
Al gave a half chuckle realizing that he did resemble their late father with one slight difference: he was over 30 years older than his father ever lived to be. "Yeah I guess I do," Al said. "I guess I do."  
"I's go home Allie?" She asked. "Yous takes me home?"  
Al looked down at the handlink. Ziggy's answer was not what he wanted to read. He swore under his breath and with flashing eyes met Sam as if daring him to disagree. "Yes, baby we're taking you home."

Sam approached the young girl and his friend. He wasn't sure if that was a promise that he could make. After all what if they weren't here for Trudy? But the timing was too much of a coincidence for them not to be. Sam didn't think that it was wise for Al to get his sister's, or his own, hopes up. He and Al were definitely going have a talk about this.  
Al nodded as Sam stood over her and put the soup spoon in her mouth. "Trudy this is my friend, Sam and he's going to help get you out. Isn't he?"  
"Um yeah sure." Sam said for now trying to be hopeful at least. "Hi, Trudy. You are a very pretty young lady today." Trudy offered a faint smile as her brother's friend held the spoon to her mouth. "Open up."  
Trudy looked downward at first not wanting to eat. "Come on be a big girl." Al said. "For me, for Allie."  
Trudy opened her mouth and swallowed the soup. She made a face. Clearly she didn't like the food. Sam took a paper towel from the cart and tenderly wiped the soup that fell from her mouth onto her chin. 

The door opened as a doctor emerged. He was a very distinguished looking man with gray hair. He was dressed in a lab coat. A woman in her thirties with long red hair that dangled in front of her face followed him. "Thank you for your time, Dolores. I'll see you at the next session. You may be seated." He spoke in a cultured accent.  
Dolores shook as she sat down between Helen and Joanne.  
Helen gave a throaty laugh. "Still hots for Doc?"  
Dolores shook as Sam gave her a soup bowl. She was clearly upset by the other patient's lewd commentary. "That's enough Helen," Sam corrected her.  
"It's true though," the older woman mocked her and moved her lower genitalia up and down in a lewd manner.. "Their counseling sessions always sound like 'Oh me!' 'Oh God' Oh God!'"  
Dolores stood up and approached the older woman. She pushed her. Helen pushed her back and the two fell to the ground. Grady and Sam sprang to action and pulled the two women apart while the nurse sedated them. It suddenly occurred to Sam how different this situation was from others. Usually, Al would make some lascivious comment about a cat fight or girl on girl action, but instead he was still knelt down next to Trudy. The only acknowledgement that he gave to the fight was to look up once.

"Busy lunch hour, Sophie?" The doctor wryly asked Nurse Marcus as she approached him.  
"Exciting as usual,Dr. McKendrick," Sophie replied.  
"Schedule a session for Miss Burton and Miss Carter for this evening. They are going to need to learn how to cooperate with others." He handed the schedule over to the brunette nurse who accepted it.

Al stayed next to Trudy as the doctor put his hand on the top of her head. "And our little one?"  
"She started talking again," the nurse said.  
"Well I suppose that is good," he said. "I think we can get her to talk at our next session." He put his hand on the developmentally disabled girl and patted it a bit too familiarly for Al's liking.. "No talk. No hurt." She began quietly.  
Al didn't like the way that Trudy started panicking when the doctor showed up and he definitely didn't like the way that his hand lingered on the top of his baby sister's head or the way he rubbed her shoulder in an almost leering way. "No one's going to hurt you, Trud. Not while I'm here. No one is going to hurt you ever again!"  
Trudy ignored her brother's protective words and she clenched in fear. "Trudy be good! Trudy be good! No talk! No hurt! No talk! No hurt!"  
"You're good, you are very good, Sweetheart," Al reassured his sister.  
"Get hold of her!" McKendrick commanded. Grady and Sam held onto her as the girl screamed. "Allie! Allie! Allie!" Over and over.  
Tears formed in Al's eyes as he could only talk to her. Sam held onto the girl for her brother as she was sedated. 

After Trudy was sedated, she and the other patients were returned to their living quarters. Sam made some excuse to Grady that he had to go take a leak so he could talk to Al in private. He knew exactly where his friend was. Just as he suspected, Al moved between the door of his sister's room, Room 217. Al had his back turned to his friend so he wouldn't see how emotional he was becoming. He rubbed his eyes. "She loved flowers, loves flowers I mean. The only place that we could have them was at the house my father bought. But she and my Dad worked together to build a garden. It didn't interest me, but there they often were digging in the ground and putting in seeds, just talking and laughing. They couldn't wait for them to grow, but my father got sick before they grew. She never saw them. When we moved around before that, I used to cut pictures of flowers from newspapers and magazines and we'd hang them on her bedroom wall. Her favorite flowers were daisies. They were so small and fragile, so different from the others not showy or bright just there. I put those pictures next to her bed so every time she woke up, her favorite flowers would be the first things that she would see. That room is so barren, no flowers. Nothing.  
She loved when I hung those stupid pictures. She would get so excited about the smallest stuff. Whenever I picked her up from school, she always gave me the biggest hugs. She loved to hug.  
She had the sweetest smile and just genuinely loved everyone and everything. She didn't understand why people didn't love her." He rubbed his eyes once more and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was firm. "We have to save her, Sam! We can get her out and contact my younger self. I know where I lived and worked at the time. He can take care of her and she will be okay."

"Are you sure that's what we're here for Al?" Sam asked not wanting to hurt his friend anymore than he had already been.  
"It has to be," Al practically shouted. "I finally found out where she was and came to get her in June of '53 and they told me that she died in March!  
Sam, I missed her by three months! I couldn't even even visit her grave because they cremated her! What other reason would there be?"  
"Well what does Ziggy say?" Sam said.  
Al read the handlink. "She won't say. Just that it's bigger than one person. She says that I'm too emotionally involved and that my personal link to the assignment clouds my judgement."  
Al and Sam stopped talking as Grady approached them with a broom in his hand. Upon Sam's glance, he started whistling and swept up the hallway. Sam moved to another hallway so he was out of earshot, with Al close behind.  
"She may have a point," Sam said. "What is the probable outcome?"  
Al read. "She still dies! I am not going to let that happen not when I can save her!"

"Al I want to help her too but our destiny-," Sam said when Al cut him off.  
"I don't care, Sam," Al said. "Look if that were your sister wouldn't you do the same thing?"  
Sam thought. Of course he would do the same thing. He had done the same thing. He tried to prevent his family's misfortune by trying to keep his brother from getting killed in Vietnam, his father from dying of a heart attack, and his sister from running off with an abusive alcoholic. He managed to save his sister, Katie by telling her the truth sort of and then his brother, Tom but on another mission one that caused Al to be imprisoned in Vietnam. "Yes I would Al but someone told me that we are not in this for ourselves! He looked an awful like you! He sounded like you! He definitely dressed like you! We are supposed to use the project for the greater good and not for our benefit! You told me that!"  
"What the hell did I know?" Al snapped. "Sam, I am not asking us to win the lottery! I am not even asking to stop my ex wife from remarrying which by the way, I wouldn't exactly split hairs on not using this for our benefit if I were you, Sam! Tell me how does it benefit anyone to leave a 16 year old girl like that? You saw those bruises, you heard that cough! The way that dctor looked at her made my skin crawl! She's dying from abuse and neglect! Tell me is it for the greater good to just leave her here while we go about our business? We were brought here to this time to this place to save her! Sam I have never pulled rank and I have never called you on a favor. What you ended up doing for me with Beth more than made up for that, but I am asking you for it now. I gave you your brother, now give me my sister."

"Al,"Sam said. "What if you end up jeopardizing your own future?"  
Al considered. "Maybe it doesn't have to be that way. You know and I know that time isn't fixed. We can still make things right and I can still do what I am supposed to do, maybe I don't know implant a suggestion in my younger self or something. I don't know tell him where to go. Tell him to enlist in Annapolis. Tell him to meet Beth. Sam, the only thing that comes out of this is I had the chance to have a life. It wasn't always great and it wasn't always perfect but it was a life. I had a life and she didn't! She is 16 years old and never got that chance! It's a risk that I am willing to take."  
Sam hesitated, "Al I-"  
When Al spoke again his voice was low and threatening. Not for nothing was he a Naval Admiral. "Sam, if you don't do this then I will leave the Imaging Chamber and get Alia. Our brainwaves aren't connected the way that you and I and she and Verbena are. I would rather it be you that I am Observing but I am willing to take what I can get."  
Sam fully understood what his friend was saying. He was willing to put his own future, his friendship with Sam, his own chance for any type of happiness on the line if it meant that he could save his sister. Sam was pretty certain that if Alia refused, Al would go to Zoey to the other Leaper project if it meant that he could save her.  
"She means that much to you doesn't she?" Sam asked. Of course Sam knew that he meant that much to Al as well.

Al nodded and this time when he spoke, his voice was sad. "I can't leave her here knowing what I know now! What I should have known then!"  
Al took several deep breaths turning away from his friend. "I promised him that I would take care of her! My father was so sick and I told her that I would take care of her. He said that he could die easy knowing that he was putting her in my hands, young old hands that's what he said. Shows how much he knew didn't it? I promised her that she wouldn't be alone. It was my job to take care of her and I couldn't."  
Sam approached his friend. "Al you were ten years old. There wasn't anything that you could have done."  
"Yeah well I should have tried harder!," Al said. "Every time I ran away, I tried to find her! Every crap job I ever had, I saved money so that I could take care of her. I put private dicks on the case. The only thing they told me was that she was transferred to at least three different hospitals but the trail always went cold."  
"How did you find out where she was?" Sam asked.  
"This couple that I did odd jobs for," Among other things Al shuddered remembering Mrs. Sawyer. "They were my landlords at the time and the husband used to work for the government so he called in a favor. But he didn't call it in early enough apparently. I reported it, you know when they told me that she died and how. I went to the police but they didn't do anything. To them I was a paranoid 19-year-old kid who was just too grief stricken over the death of his mongoloid kid sister to accept the truth that she just died from pneumonia. No one cared, Sam! I didn't have anybody then."  
He sighed. "No matter what I did or where I was. Trudy was always in the back of my mind. Why didn't I find her sooner? Why couldn't I have investigated or spoke out? I fought for her so often when we were kids but when it came down to it, I couldn't. I left her! She needed me and I abandoned her!"  
"You tried your best, Al," Sam reassured his friend.  
"No Sam I failed her," Al corrected. "I fucked up and I lost her. I don't deserve her, but Trudy doesn't deserve to die because I failed her."  
Al could not hide the tears anymore, but he faced the direction of her sister's room and just let them fall. Even though he knew that he could not actually touch him, Sam put his hand on Al's shoulder hoping that Al appreciated the gesture. Al's fingers met the top of Sam's hand. Even though their hands ran through each other, they still felt that emotional closeness.  
Sam wordlessly let Al lean on his strength. Usually it was the other way around, Al helping Sam out reminding him of the purpose of their journey, being the eccentric but strong willed guide that he had always been. Al had always been Sam's shoulder to cry on and his source of encouragement whenever he was uncertain about his mission. Now, it was up to Sam to do the same for him. 

"We'll do this," Sam promised him. "We'll save her, but we're going to do this the right way. She's clearly not the only one who's been hurt here. There's more than one problem and they are probably all connected somehow. We'll get to the bottom of our assignment and we'll get her out. But not before we do what we are supposed to do. Okay?"  
Al nodded ready to take charge again. He wiped his tears and straightened himself up. "Right, we have work to do" His hand link made the familiar noise. Al consulted it. "Ziggy says that if she might make a suggestion."  
Sam couldn't resist a slight smile at the thought of an Artificial Intelligence acting sheepish. "Go ahead."  
Al read what was on the screen. "She said don't start at the end. Start at the beginning. Sam, I am so glad you programmed every fortune cookie known to man into her memory, but really how does that help us?"  
Sam stifled a wider grin knowing that now that Al's focus had returned so did his sardonic sense of humor. "We'll figure it out."  
"We always do," Al said determined.  
"We'll save her, Al" Sam promised. "Trudy won't die a second time."


	3. We're All Mad Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Al discover that they are there to help three patients. The arrival of a couple of other familiar characters further complicates things

A Light Through That Window  
A Quantum Leap Fanfic  
By Auburn Red

Chapter Two: We're All Mad Here

Al finally managed to get some information from Ziggy as Sam went through the early morning rounds at Belleville the next day. "Ziggy says there are three here, but ultimately others."  
"Does she say which three?" Sam inquired.  
Al pounded the handlink. He then read the contents. "The three are Dolores Burton, Joanne Willoughby, and Theresa Calavicci." He sighed with relief that at least Ziggy and they were on the right track that they were there for Trudy. " She says that all three girls die in March of this year and their families are told the same cause of death."  
"Pneumonia," Sam said. Al nodded. "Well we know Trudy what about the other two?"  
Al read. "Dolores Murphy Burton, 25 years old. Father unknown, mother a Good Time Girl. Mom commits suicide slashes her wrists with her 13 year old daughter in the next room in '41. Dolores elopes at 15 with Henry Burton, an old money nice guy but something of a trusting idiot with a domineering mother. Settles into the Happy Housewife role, I guess wanting to be everything Mom wasn't. At first okay, nice girl but a bit high strung until she gets pregnant, a year after her marriage. She falls into a deep depression during her first pregnancy. Has a miscarriage so her depression gets worse. Eventually, she recovers. After her daughter, Rosemary is born, a couple of years later, the depression returns. She tries to emulate her Mom but Henry catches her. She is involuntarily committed, mostly by her mother in law. Henry tries a few times to visit her, but is turned away. I guess he believes the reports that she's doing fine, but would be better if he never saw her. Burton is told that his wife died and that because she was contagious they took it upon themselves to take care of the body. Mama Burton convinces him not to pursue it and he marries again to Helena Christiansen, some old money broad to give his daughter a mother."

"My God," Sam said. "That poor woman. What about Joanne?"  
"Okay Joanne Willoughby age 20 her father's a doctor specializes in heart disorders and her mom's a high society dame. Has a much easier go than Dolores and Trudy. Nice friendly smart girl, an artist. But she acts very childlike and flies into unpredictable moods. Her parents don't know what to do with her except keep her isolated during those times, making school and having friends hard for her. She is looked after by a revolving door of nurses, a regular Bertha Rochester. She is visited by a few doctors but nothing takes. Her folks decide to have her institutionalized at 16 after she tries to stab one of those nurses with a knife. Gets sent to Belleville. Her folks are big time donors so they tell them everything that they want to hear. Daughter is fine, weather is beautiful, wish they were here. She also dies this month and her parents get told the same thing." He looks closely at the handlink. "Both Dolores and Joanne's families were told right away. I wasn't." 

That last bit of information was said with a bitterness that Sam understood. Joanne's family came from money. While Dolores was born poor, she had an advantageous marriage. Their families were the type of people who got things done. They gave orders that were followed. If they wanted to know how their wife and daughter were, someone would tell them. Only their confidence in the system which favored them because of their wealth or their willingness to turn a blind eye to their illnesses and treatments kept them from pursuing it further.   
Trudy Calavicci was a poor orphan with Down's Syndrome. No one would have cared what happened to her, except the brother who broke his back to raise and later to find her. She could have bounced around from hospital to hospital for years and Al would not have been the wiser. Sam knew that if Al hadn't been persistent enough to inquire about her, he would not have been granted so much as a phone call.  
"Can Ziggy give anything beyond the official version?" Sam inquired.  
"She says she's working on it," Al said. He pounded on the handlink in frustration, not just for his usual annoyance at the AI's evasiveness but anxiety over what this institution may do to Trudy.

"Well, she gave us something at least," Sam said. "I'll see if I can get something from them. Maybe talk to them.  
Al pointed outside. "If you don't need me for anything." Normally, Al would leave the Imaging Chamber to do his Al-like things or argue with Ziggy for more information. Sam had a feeling that his friend wasn't going to leave the Imaging Chamber anytime soon as long as his sister was so close to him.   
"Be careful Al," Sam said to his friend. He could tell that Al hadn't slept and his loud garish clothes were clearly wrinkled. Maybe Ziggy was right. He was too emotionally involved.   
"I'll be fine, Sam," Al said.  
"Hey, Wiley," Grady's voice made Sam jump with surprise. "You're with me outside with the ladies." 

Sam observed the patients during their morning breaks in the yard. Well yard was the wrong word. It was surrounded by an incredibly high chain link fence. It didn't take much observation to realize that it was electric. The grounds had some plants but most were overgrown and dead. Mostly the ground was surrounded by rocks, stones, and dirt. It was as lifeless and imposing as the rest of the institution. It was less like an institution and more like a prison or a concentration camp.  
The female patients were outside for a 30 minute rest. Sam winced as he heard a few of the male orderlies like Grady making lewd and graphic comments. "Crazy or not, I'ld like that one to get her legs on mine," one Isaac mocked, pointing at Dolores. The red head sat away from the others as though afraid of the world around her. Isaac whistled. "You know crazy chicks don't know how to stop. They don't even know the meaning of the word."

The other guys guffawed. Sam rolled his eyes and left the other employees as he walked around the grounds. "Knock it off guys," he said.  
"Jack is now all Sir Galahad all of a sudden," Grady whistled. "Well if it eases your conscience that girl would be all over you in an instant and I should know. Her Mama was a Good Time Girl and so was she." The other guys laughed.   
This was too much for Sam. It angered him how callous these so-called caregivers behaved towards these patients. He shoved Grady and then held him by the lapels. "Wanna say that again?" He threatened. "Leave them alone."  
"Is there a problem here?" Nurse Marcus said.  
"No problem, just Wiley's been a bit sensitive these days," Grady said. Sam let go of the other man's shirt but fixed him a warning glance.

Sam approached Dolores who shied from the orderly as though she were a frightened deer in the presence of a hunter. Since the mentally ill saw Sam as he really was and could see Al, Sam wondered if the young woman's nervousness sprang from not recognizing the orderly or from a deeper issue. "Hi Dolores," Sam attempted to be friendly and thought of sitting on the bench next to her. The young woman's knees tightened as she pulled them together. Sam remembered from Al's description and from Grady's joke that her mother had been a prostitute. He figured that she was afraid that he might molest her, so he kept his distance. "You don't have to be scared."   
Dolores didn't speak but turned away. Sam thought that he could mention her family as a way to break the ice. "I bet you miss Henry and Rosemary huh?" Upon the name of her husband and daughter, Dolores's defensive posture relaxed and she lost the forlorn expression on her face. "I bet they miss you too."  
"Too old," Dolores said, her voice was so quiet that Sam had to strain himself to hear her. It was hard to guess what she meant. Sam wondered if she referred to the passage of time since she had been in the hospital. Her daughter would be 7 by now. Maybe she was referring to that Rosemary would be too old.  
"Rosemary's never too old to need her mother," Sam reassured her.  
"Rosemary for rememberance," Dolores said.  
That line, rosemary for rememberance sounded familiar but from what? While Sam's Swiss Cheese memory had disappeared thanks to his sojourn to Al's Place and eventual return, sometimes things got confusing. Whereas before, his mind was a blank slate unable to recall anything now it was the opposite. Anything that he learned, read, or had stored either from either his Leaps or his known   
Iife and experiences were gathered together. He had to wade through years, decades, even centuries of information to find just the right nugget. (To add further confusion, he was sometimes uncertain whether he was recalling something from an original timeline or an altered one). He usually did or Al usually provided the answer, but sometimes it took awhile like a database on slow speed.  
For example he knew that "Rosemary for remberance" was a line that he heard before but he couldn't remember if it was from a book, or a play, a movie or something somebody said. He remembered that someone said that flowers had meaning, perhaps rosemary symbolized memory. Of course, Sam could be overthinking it. Dolores could simply be referring to her daughter and hoped that she remembered her.  
"I'm sure she remembers you," Sam said.   
Dolores withdrew again. "Have you been hurt Dolores?" He asked. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you. Do you want to talk about it?"  
Dolores shook her head clearly terrified. "Too old," she repeated.  
"I'm here if you need me," Sam said.

"Hey, no fraternizing with the patients," a severe gray haired nurse commanded Sam. Dolores lowered her gaze from Sam.   
"I'm sorry," Sam said. "She looked upset."  
"We have rules here, Mr. Wiley," the nurse commanded. "Make sure that you follow them."  
"Aye aye Nurse Ratched," Sam said sarcastically then wondered okay where have I heard that before?  
"That's Nurse Blair to you," the nurse said. "There isn't a Nurse Ratched who works here."  
"Sorry," Sam said. "She was a nurse who worked at the last institution that I worked in. She was real mean, nothing like you."  
Blair huffed and walked off.   
Dolores practically crumpled into a ball. Sam tried a couple of more times to get her attention, but her evasiveness and Blair's imperious gaze told him that it was a lost cause. Sam could see that the red haired patient had withdrew into herself and he had lost his chance to get her to open up. "Remember, I'm here if you need me," he said hoping that she would take him up on the offer. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Sam thought, that's where I know Nurse Ratched from!

Okay Dolores was not receptive what about Trudy? Sam could see her in a far off corner sitting on the rocks and idly tracing shapes in the dirt with her fingers. She was in conversation with her big brother who sat next to her so they could be at eye level. Sam saw Trudy say something and Al respond with a slight chuckle and a nod towards Sam so he guessed that he was the topic of conversation.  
Sam quietly approached her deciding that he probably came on too strong with Dolores, so it was probably best to approach with caution. Besides Al could do the heavy lifting of trying to talk to her.  
"How's it going?" Sam asked as he approached the Calavicci Siblings. Trudy looked downward very shyly and didn't say anything. She moved her body towards Al as if trying to hide behind her brother. "Good morning, Trudy," Sam said.  
"Good morning," Trudy said shyly.  
"Good morning, Sam," Sam prompted. Since her brother introduced him by his real name, Sam may as well keep it up. If anyone asked, he could tell them that Sam was some sort of nickname for Jack, maybe his middle name.  
"Good morning, Sam," Trudy said.  
"She doesn't usually talk to strangers," Al said. "But she definitely likes you."   
"Well, I definitely like her," Sam smiled. Trudy covered her face with her hand and gave an embarrassed but happy smile. Once again she tried to lean on Al's chest, but her head went through Al's form. There was a difficult moment as the two friends exchanged a temporary unhappy look over this reminder that the two long lost siblings were still apart by years, generations, and physical distance. Trudy was in an asylum in 1953 and Al was in a holographic chamber in 1999. She was 16 and he was 65. Her life had barely begun (and still could prematurely end) while he had a life of experiences war, work, friendships, love, that she hadn't yet reached. Trudy coughed in response.

Al smiled to change the subject. "I told Trudy about you, Sam and she thinks you're handsome."  
"Really,* Sam said amused. He turned to Trudy. "Well I think you are beautiful."  
"She is," Al agreed. Trudy didn't yet look up as she traced at the dirt, but she clearly bushed.   
"Just you know watch yourself," Al said jokingly giving the "my eye on you" gesture being the protective big brother. "Just you know don't."  
"Don't worry Al," Sam said with a chuckle. He remembered how he, Tom, and his father acted the same way about Katie.   
"Sam Allie's brubber," Trudy said not looking up. "Sam mine's brubber."  
"I beg your pardon?" Sam asked.  
"I told her that you were like a brother to me," Al said. "She takes things literally."  
"Sam mine's brubber?" Trudy asked looking at the Leaper, her lips pouting and her eyes looking like a much younger girl.  
"Of course I'm your brother," Sam said.  
Trudy gave the widest smile and and practically tackled Sam with a hug. Sam drew back in surprise, but then returned the hug, giving her an extra one for the brother who wanted to, but could not return the embrace. Al smiled at the sight of his best friend and sister bonding. He felt a slight stab of envy that Sam could do for her what he could not and wished that he was the Leaper and could be with his sister at this moment. That disappeared when he saw how happy Trudy was in the presence of her new honorary brother.

The sweet moment was interrupted by Helen as she crawled up behind Trudy and made monkey noises. "Hey Dummy," she said. She reached over and yanked a tuft of her hair.  
"Leave her alone,"Sam said holding the young girl close protecting her with his body. Trudy screamed and sank to the ground. Al and Sam examined her as a patch of blood appeared on her head.  
"Try that again bitch!" Al dared.   
Sam held onto Helen attempting to stop her. "What do you expect from the doctor's pet!" Helen taunted. "The doctor's baby! The doctor's dummy! The doctor's slu-!" That was as far as she got when an angry Trudy scratched the older woman on the arm so hard that she drew blood. Then she screamed right in her ear.

Nurse Blair commanded Grady to take Trudy. "Take her to Isolation!" The nurse commanded. She looked downward and smelled. "The bitch urinated!" Blair complained.   
Trudy sobbed. "Oh stop that, Grady Isolation," the nurse ordered.  
"I can take her," Sam offered.  
Blair comnanded "You are in enough trouble as it is. You will remain here!"  
Grady waited as Blair sedated the young girl as he forcibly carried her from the grounds. Sam and Al's eyes met. Sam didn't have to read the hologram's mind to tell where he was going.

Already in a foul mood,Nurse Blair returned to her argument with Joanne and slapped the blond across the hand. "What are the rules? You know the rules!" She gathered up the crayons that fell around the blond patient's lap. "No crying or disturbing the others at night!" The nurse taunted as she held them over the shorter woman's head.   
"I want my crayons Nurse Blair," the girl said with her lips in a pout and her eyes filling.  
"You want them?" The nurse laughed and threw them on the floor breaking them to pieces. "Then go and get them!"  
Joanne rocked back and forth on the ground and then started crying. Sam approached the argument as Joanne's chest heaved up and down as her crying got worse. The girl heaved and vomited sending the remains of breakfast to the ground. "God, Wiley pick her up and get her out of here!" She then called Nurse Marcus to come and sedate the girl. "Then Wiley when you come back clean this up!"   
"Shouldn't we clean her up?" Sam asked.  
"No take her back to her room that's punishment enough," the nurse said. "Then when you get done get the girls out of here, the break is over." The overcast sky became a threatening gray as thunder could be heard in the distance.  
Sam nodded when the nurse called him back. "Wiley, I will report your conduct this morning!"   
"Yes ma'am," Sam said. As far as he was concerned this Leap could not end soon enough.

The storm intensified as the power flickered off and on.  
Ziggy centered Al into the Isolation Room, really nothing more than a closet. Al tried to contact Ziggy but she had interference. Al attributed it to the storm.  
He looked around the isolation room. It was dark and gray. Al could hear the sound of rats on the walls. Trudy was ordered to be in this room for 24 hours without food or water. Trudy sniffled while Al tried to comfort her using his voice.  
Trudy tried to wrap her arms around her big brother and Al desperately wanted to return the hug like they did when they were little and Trudy was afraid of the dark.  
Al sang "Inchworm" and "Over the Rainbow" to his sister. He wanted to tuck her in like he used to, but knew that he would have to make do with singing to her.  
"Allie why no hug?" She sniffled.  
Al winced. "It's uh hard to explain, Trudy, you see-"  
"You angel?" the girl asked.  
Somehow Al could tell what she was really asking. Was he dead.   
"Not quite," Al said. "You see Sam helps people and I help him. Like remember the Lone Ranger and The Green Hornet?" Trudy nodded. "Sam's like them and I'm like his Tonto or Kato. I'm his loyal sidekick."  
"Sam hero," Trudy said.  
"Yeah Sam's a hero," Al answered.  
"Allie hero," Trudy said.  
"Oh not me, Trud," Al said. "I'm no hero. I just help Sam."  
"Allie hero," Trudy insisted. Al was touched that after all the years of separation almost a decade for her, and over four for him that Trudy still believed in her big brother and thought of him as a hero. He wasn't sure if he was worthy of her admiration.  
"Want kiss and hug," Trudy said sadly.  
Al nodded. More than anything he wanted that too. Suddenly, he had an idea. "Trudy hold out your hand." The girl complied. "Now catch." He then blew her a kiss. "Catch it in your hand." Trudy did. "Now keep it in your pocket."   
Trudy looked her uniform up and down. "No pocket."  
"Okay hold it to your heart," Al said. Trudy obeyed. "Very good. Now hold your arms together like you're hugging yourself." Trudy obeyed. Al imitated the gesture then blew air in her direction. "Now keep that in your heart too. No matter how far we are from each other, I will always hold you close."

"Allie I go Bad Place?" Trudy asked.  
"No, Sam and I won't let them take you to the Bad Place," Al said. "What is the Bad Place, Trud?   
"Bad place makes my head hurted. Want go home, Allie," Trudy said with tears in her eyes.  
"We're getting you out soon Honey," Al said. "I'll get you out of here and you're going to live with me forever." He wondered what his younger self was doing right now. It was late night, so he was probably working at the factory. Perhaps working at the divot assembly line pushing buttons as the tools went through. He knew that his baby sister was never far from his mind. It angered him that he was unaware at the horrors that his beloved sister was going through.  
"Trudy what do they do to you at the Bad Place?" Al asked.  
Trudy shook her head. "Doctor want talk. Doctor hurted me! Doctor say lie down and talk! No talk doctor! No talk doctor! No hurt! No talk! No hurt!"  
"You said that before," Al said. "Would the doctor hurt you if you talked? Talked about what?"  
"I don't know," she said crying. "I no good. Ise gots reds all over so Doctor says lie down and talk. I go to Bad Place and Hurts my head! Doctor says I dirty and bad! I bad girl, Allie!"  
"No, Trudy you are a very good girl," Al said. "It's this place that's bad."  
"No talk! No talk! No hurt, Allie," Trudy collapsed into a heap on the ground.  
Al whispered to her. "Trudy, Honey look at me. We don't have to talk about the Bad Place anymore. When Sam and I get you out, you will never have to think about the Bad Place again."  
He tried to cheer her up. "When we get out, we'll get a big house and you'll have plenty of toys. It will look like Santa's Workshop. Toys, pretty dresses, maybe a pet. What type of pet do you want?"

She considered clearly unsure. "Kitty cat or doggy."   
He remembered that Trudy wanted a pet and their father always refused even after they bought the house, considering animals a waste of money when the food should go to his hungry children. Sometimes when their father was away, Al and Trudy sneaked out of the apartment and gave food to the stray dogs or feral cats that sometimes congregated in the alleys.   
"You can have one of each," Al said.   
"Poppy be there?" She asked.  
Al shook his head. "No honey. Remember, Poppy's in Heaven."  
"I don't know," Trudy said.  
"You don't know if he's in Heaven or you don't remember?" Al asked.  
"I don't know," Trudy repeated.  
"Trudy, do you remember the house that we used to live in with Poppy?" Al asked.  
"I don't know," Trudy said with tears in her eyes.   
"It's okay, Baby, it's okay," Al said. He knew that patients did not always retain memories after shock therapy. Of course the years of living in an institution did not help. She could not tell if it was one or nine years from when she last saw her father. 

"I don't mumemmer," Trudy said sadly.  
Al thought that maybe he could cheer her up by describing the house. He used hand gestures as he spoke. "Uh let's see it was um white, one story. There were about four windows in front one on each side, and four in back. There was a concrete walkway. The front door was blue I think."  
"Red," Trudy said.   
"No it was blue," Al said so caught up in the reminisce that it didn't register at first.  
"Red," Trudy stubbornly insisted.  
Then Al realized that she did remember. "That's right it was red." He decided to test her memory. "There were these statues, two of them on either side of the front porch and they were some kind of animal, frogs I think."   
Trudy shook her head. "Big kitty cats!"  
Al nodded. "That's right, they were lions like the ones in front of the library. Remember I chipped the nose off of one with that hunting knife Pop gave me for Christmas one year!  
So, you opened the red door and there was the hallway with the closet where we kept Poppy's good suit, our Mass clothes, and the ironing board. The room on the other side was the kitchen. It was white, really white. Sometimes after I cleaned it in the summer and the light was just right it could really blind you during the day. I used to cook a lot of pasta. You love pasta what was your favorite?"  
" 'Gatoni," she answered.   
The admiral smiled. "Rigatoni, right and then there was the living room. The walls were white and the floor was brown wood. Remember, I used to hate when you got it dirty after I cleaned it?" Trudy gave a vague nod. "We had a radio in there and we listened to what was it?"  
"Babbet and Closlello," Trudy said.  
"That's right, remember Hey Abbot," Al said mimicking Lou Costello's signature intro.

Trudy giggled and said "HEY BABBET!!" Al laughed. "That's right. Who's the guy on first?"  
"Yes" Trudy added.  
"The guy playing first."  
"Who."  
"The fellow playing first."  
"Who."  
"The first baseman."  
"Who on first."  
"That's what I want to know!" Al said in a perfect imitation of Lou Costello's frustrated whine. Trudy giggled.  
"And what was Poppy's favorite show?" Trudy thought for a minute. Al took out his cigar and spoke with a raspy voice. "Uh oh Gracie's at it again. Let's see what happens."  
"George and Gacie," Trudy guessed.  
"Right say good night Gracie," Al prompted.  
"Good night Gacie," Trudy said back.  
"How about another one?" Al asked as always glad to have an audience and was also pleased that he helped his little sister forget her predicament. He rose from his kneeled position near Trudy . He put his hand up to his ear, mimicked like he was holding a microphone, and began the famous intro. "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of man?"  
"Se Shadow Knows," Trudy said the famous catchphrase as if cuing her brother.   
Al gave a devilish grin and went into the famous Shadow laugh. "Mwaahaahaa!" Trudy returned the laugh. They did other impersonations of radio personalities and characters as Trudy started to yawn.  
"So sleepy," Trudy said.  
"That's okay, you just lie down here next to me, Baby," Al said.  
"Allie story please?" Trudy asked.  
Al smiled. "Okay let me think. Okay I got one: There once was a boy who had a very large nursery with lots of toys. He had an old skin horse which he used to ride, toy soldiers which he pretended were an army, blocks so he could learn how to spell the whole bit. But this kid's favorite was a rabbit that was made out of a very soft fabric called velveteen…"

The next morning Trudy (and Al) were let out of isolation. Trudy sat in her usual spot for breakfast. The storm continued to raise enough of a ruckus. The lights turned off for a few minutes, then flickered back on.  
Suddenly, there was a loud siren that blared throughout the building. Trudy and some of the other patients covered their ears and screamed. Helen just laughed. Nurse Marcus left the room.   
"What's that? Al asked out loud.   
Al stood up and consulted Ziggy. "Ziggy, what happened?"  
"A patient escaped," the AI answered  
"Who broke out?"  
"Dolores Burton," the computer voice said.   
"Ziggy, center me on Sam," Al said.

Sam walked the rounds through the hallways. He did maintenance for the rooms, loaded the patients laundry onto a truck outside the loading dock, and committed to other daily tasks like emptying bed pans and take a head count. Then he helped lead the patients out for breakfast.  
At first he tried to get Dolores to say something, but the young woman just stared out the window and wouldn't speak. Sam decided to try for Joanne and he knew the perfect way to break the ice.  
As he entered Joanne's room, the young woman was seated on her bed in a fetal position. Her fingers mimicked like she was still drawing on the paper that she had been given. "How you doing, Joanne?" Sam asked.  
Joanne shook her head. "I want my crayons."  
"Well I just so happen to have a few right here," Sam said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of 12 crayons. Since Jack had a few hours before returning to work, Sam bought some crayons from the local drug store. He also bought a few other things like a flashlight for Patrick and a National Geographic Magazine of St. Basil's Cathedral for Joseph.  
Joanne gave a very radiant smile and hugged Sam fiercely. "Thank you! I love you, Mr. Wiley," she said as she returned to her sketches.  
"Make sure you draw me something nice and pretty," Sam encouraged her.  
"I'm too old," Trudy said as she drew.  
"You're never too old to color," Sam said but then he remembered. "Dolores said that too. What are you too old for?"  
"Just too old," Joanne replied. "Been too old since I got hurt. I got hurt and now I'm too old."  
"Who says?" Sam asked.  
In a non sequitur tone of voice, she continued. "Trudy was my friend now she's not."  
"Why did you and Trudy have a fight?" Sam asked.  
"She's such a baby," Trudy answered. "She's not too old."

Before Sam could ask anymore he saw the lights turn off and on and then heard the alarm blare through. Joanne returned to her drawing as if nothing happened.   
Sam left the room as orderlies and nurses ran through the hallways. Rather than ask, Sam decided to follow them. He listened as Dr. McKendrick stood at the center of the employees. "We have had a breach in security, Dolores Burton has escaped. I need volunteers to take a head count,search the grounds, and outside the perimeter."  
"Outside the perimeter sir?" One asked.  
"She may have taken the advantage to depart when the power went out," the doctor said. "Now, I cannot stress enough how important it is that no one speaks of this. We don't want to cause a mass panic if word gets out. Are there any volunteers?"  
Sam glanced in Al's direction. He stood behind the doctor and fixed him a glare that would have killed him on sight. He mouthed to Sam outside. Sam understood and volunteered to search the outside perimeter.

The duo spoke of their findings. Ziggy was still unable to find any useful information beyond the official version. She promised to look deeper into institution records, employee information, doctor's notes, anything that could be useful.  
"The majority of the records were either destroyed or contained little information," the computer said.  
"Keep looking, Zig," Al said. Sam noticed Al flicker off and on.  
"Are you okay Al?" Sam asked.  
"I'm fine,Sam," Al insisted firmly. "It's this stupid weather!"  
"Weather has never affected you before," Sam said. He noticed how exhausted his friend looked. There were dark circles around his eyes and he was unshaven. He looked like a mess. "Al, have you left the Imaging Chamber at all since we got here?"  
"Sam I am fine," Al snapped. "We're looking for Dolores remember? Did you find anything out?"  
"Al, maybe you should rest," Sam said. "I can look after Trudy-"  
"Did. You. Find. Anything. Out?" Al asked in that commanding stubborn tone.

Al and Sam talked about their conversation with the patients. "Did Trudy say she was too old?" Sam asked.  
Al shook his head. "No, she just kept yelling 'No talk. No hurt!' and how she was a bad girl. I hate this, I just hate this, Sam!"  
He stomped his foot in frustration. "I hate seeing her like this. I can't help her, I can't do anything! I can't even hold her! I feel like I am being tortured like all I can do is watch this happen to her and I can't stop it." In all of his years, Al Calavicci had never felt so helpless so powerless. Sam realized that was why Al hadn't left the Chamber. He couldn't physically do anything to help his little sister, so he had to be there for her anyway that he could. Al's mind took him back to that young boy who couldn't depend on anyone else to look after his sister. But Al was wrong, he wasn't that kid anymore and he had someone else to rely on. He had Sam.  
"That's why I'm here," Sam said. "So I can."  
"That's what you do," Al said. "You're the hero and you'll save her. What good am I just the motormouth?"  
"Al," Sam reassured his friend. "You are doing for her what you have always done for me. What you no doubt did for her. You are giving her hope and strength by guiding her." It seemed strange that his friend who was normally so gregarious, so brash, so confident would be so down about himself. "You have always been yourself and I have always relied on that. I'm sure so has Trudy."  
"Yeah, you're right," Al said. "What was I thinking? 'To thine ownself be true.'"

Sam started. "Now, I remember!"  
"Remember what?" Al said.  
"'Rosemary's for rememberance,'" Sam said. "Dolores said that earlier! I thought she was talking about her daughter! That line's from Hamlet!"  
"Yeah," Al said. "Ophelia, Hamlet's girlfriend says that after she loses it before she-" They both started and the same thought ran through them. They said at once "-drowns!"  
Sam ran across the field as they approached a nearby pond. He saw a strange cloth bobbing up and down the water. He jumped into the water and waded through the pond. He reached the cloth and pulled it upwards as Dolores's body floated to the surface. Sam picked her up and moved her towards the shore.  
She was lifeless, still, and her skin was cold to the touch. Sam lay her on the ground and opened her mouth. He tilted her chin and compressed her chest five times. He listened for her breathing then repeated the same procedure. He repeated it again but she gave no response. Sam counted to five trying to pump air into the young woman's lungs to no avail. "Sam,"Al said. But Sam wouldn't listen. He tried again. Sam continued to pump air into her until it was no use.

Sam and Al returned to the institution with Dolores in his arms with Dr. McKendrick peering quizzically. He retrieved Dolores and handed her over to Grady and Nurse Blair. "Thank you, Mr. Wiley," Dr. McKendrick informed him. "I will see to the arrangement."  
"Shouldn't we notify someone like her family?" Sam asked.  
"I shall see to it Mr. Wiley," the doctor insisted. "But I would like to see you in my office immediately."

Sam followed Dr. McKendrick into his office. While the rest of the hospital was barren and cold, his office was nothing like it. The carpets were plush velvet. The furniture was handcrafted leather. Sam could see the psychiatrist couch across from him. It was clear where the funding went. "Mr. Wiley you have been working at this instution since August of the previous year."  
"Yes doctor," Sam said.  
"Surely, you are well acquainted with protocol between staff and patients."  
"I don't know what you heard but-"Sam began.  
"I have received word that you have become rather familiar with the patients. Oh I am not saying that your behavior had anything to do with Mrs. Burton's actions but we have not had such an incident until recently. Nurse Blair said that you spoke to her."  
"She seemed upset about something," Sam said. "I thought that I could help her."  
"That is not your job, Mr. Wiley," the doctor said. "I have also received reports that you gave personal items to a number of patients including Miss Willoughby."  
"She had crayons and Nurse Blair took them from her," Sam said.  
"Her parents supply the crayons," McKendrick. "There is very little we can do about that. But all personal items are to be confiscated. Then there is the matter of Miss Calavicci. You were seen embracing her and she refers to you as Sam."  
"Sam is my middle name," Sam replied.  
"I thought your middle name was Seymour," the doctor said.  
"I always liked Sam better," Sam answered.  
"My point is Mr. Wiley, these are society's outcasts. They are thrown away by families who do not want them anymore. This is simply a holding place to keep them for the rest of their days. They are barely more than animals."   
"If you will forgive me sir, I thought hospitals like this were supposed to take care of them," Sam objected.  
"Not these people," the doctor said. "They are best forgotten and left behind. Never forget that, Wiley."   
Sam was about to argue again when the doctor changed the subject. "As for Mrs. Burton she fell ill with pneumonia, do you understand?"  
Sam glared at the doctor knowing that he didn't want the truth of the young woman's suicide to come out. "Understood," he said.  
"That will be all ,Mr. Wiley but if you break any protocol, you will be removed from your position," the doctor shooed the orderly out of his office.

When Sam opened the door, he could see Nurse Marcus making a big show of picking up medical supplies from her cart. Sam knelt down to help her pick them up. "He gave you the 'they're nothing more than animals' speech huh?" She asked.  
Sam nodded. "This place is more insane than the people. Somebody ought to say something!"  
."Like who," Nurse Marcus said. "Dr. McKendrick has powerful friends. Hell, his cousin is the chief of police! Do you think you are the first employee that had said something?"  
The nurse nodded. "It doesn't pay to get too close to the patients. You don't want to get involved."  
"How can you stand watching this, the abuse, the cruelty?" Sam asked.  
"I just follow orders," the nurse said. "So do you if you want to remain here. I don't say anything when the patients get beaten, or punished. I didn't say anything when Mrs. Burton was his favorite or when she was passed over.."  
"Favorite," Sam asked. "What are you talking about? What was Dolores passed over for?"  
Nurse Marcus winced. "I said too much, I am not getting involved Wiley and if you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't either."   
The nurse picked up her cart and rolled away leaving Sam behind.

Grady Matthews was outside having a smoke. Shame about Dolores Burton. Since the doc had long tired of her, he had his way with her instead. The girl was always too mopey and depressed to say no. Maybe he could move on. The doc was always generous with his cast offs. Maybe Grady could now fuck Joanne Willoughby or the retard, Trudy Calavicci. They were young and nubile enough. Grady's thoughts filled with what he could do to those girls when a shock fell through him as something entered his body.  
Grady took a second to get his bearings. He knew what he was there for and what the assignment was. The Observer wasn't there yet, but if the cards were played right, he should be arriving soon. Grady stubbed his cigarette with his foot. "Showtime," he spoke with a female voice. Suddenly, Grady cleared his throat and resumed his male voice. He then headed towards McKendrick's door and rapped smartly. "Enter," the doctor said.

Grady entered the door. "What can I do for you, Mr. Matthews?" The doctor inquired.  
Grady pursed his lips. "Dr. McKendrick, I have to report one of the orderlies has disobeyed protocol."  
"And which orderly did this?" The doctor inquired.  
"Jack Wiley," Grady answered.  
"I already spoke to Mr. Wiley," the doctor said testily.  
"I'm sure you have, but since he and Theresa Calavicci have become closer she's been telling him things. Things about her sessions with you."  
The psychiatrist tensed. "It does not matter, Miss Calavicci is an orphaned imbecile. She may talk all she wants. No one would care to listen."  
Grady held his fingers together subliminally putting himself in power over this lecherous doctor who was afraid of scandal. "Yes but he also has been talking to Joanne Willoughby and she does have a family that may be concerned. It wouldn't take much for him to put two and two together and well he may learn about Dolores Burton as well, that's another prominent family that might show concern."  
McKendrick nodded. "I see your point." He stood and opened his office door. "Nurse Blair schedule Theresa Calavicci for a transorbital lobotomy this evening and Joanne Willoughby for one tomorrow."  
The nurse nodded as McKendrick continued. "Matthews, I would like for you to assist. Mr. Wiley is not to know about this."  
Grady nodded. "Absolutely, sir."

After getting some decent reception from Ziggy, Al felt his patience growing thin. Whatever they needed to know, had to be done soon before this place killed his sister. He forced himself to think logically and take charge. Be an Admiral, a Project Director, an Observer and not just a worried brother. One way to start was with Dolores Burton and the reason for her suicide.   
"Can you give me any of McKendrick's notes about Dolores Burton?" Al asked.  
"Do you want his notes on her before or after she was committed to Belleville Institution?" The AI asked.  
Al was stunned. "Before she was at the institution? She knew him before?"  
"Yes Dr. McKendrick was Dolores Burton's primary physician beginning shortly after her marriage to Henry Burton," Ziggy replied.  
"What did she see him for then?" Al asked.  
"Depression mostly, feelings of anxiety," the AI answered. "Their sessions increased during her first pregnancy and abortion."  
"Miscarriage," Al corrected.   
"You asked me to look beyond the official version," Ziggy reminded the Observer. "It was listed as a miscarriage, but all symptoms including forced hemorrhage, excess bleeding, and surgical procedure point it to being what was then an illegal abortion."  
"Why would she have an abortion if she was married to the guy and later had his kid?" Al rhetorically asked then gave his own answer. "If the kid wasn't his! Say if it was her sleazy doctor?" He then thought. "Ziggy, did this happen to anyone else?"  
"Four years ago Joanne Willoughby complained of identical pain resulting in the same procedure," The AI replied.  
Somehow Al could feel that the computerized brain was hesitating as if formulating an answer. Anyone whoever said that robots, computers, artificial intelligence and the like were incapable of emotion never met Ziggy. She was clearly finding a way to deliver bad news to someone whose nerves were already frayed and reaching the breaking point worried about his younger sibling.   
Al also did some figuring in his head. If McKendrick was seeing Dolores right after her marriage then he had been seeing her since she was sixteen. The same thing happened to Joanne, a sexual affair with the doctor ending in a pregnancy and abortion when she was sixteen. Now the doctor moved on to younger greener pastures and who was the youngest, the puppy, the baby of the institution? Al tried to make his question as even as possible. "Ziggy did my sister go through the same thing?"  
Ziggy once again hesitated. "I believe the proper idiom to speak is don't shoot or disconnect the messenger."  
"Ziggy," Al said forcefully.  
"The answer is yes, Trudy Calavicci had an abortion in February of this year," the AI replied.  
Al was ready to explode. "THAT BASTARD GOT MY BABY SISTER PREGNANT??!!! I'm going to kill him! I swear on all that is good, he's a dead man!" Al swore.  
He understood what Trudy meant about being a bad girl and how the doctor hurt her. With her diminished cognitive abilities and no one to explain it to her, she didn't understand what he was doing to her, may not have even known what sex was, and thought that she deserved being raped. Joanne probably didn't either. Dolores probably did because of her mother's occupation but that made her no less a victim. He took advantage of all of them and then discarded them.  
"There's more," Ziggy announced. "You must act quickly. I have accessed the schedule and Trudy Calavicci is scheduled for a transorbital lobotomy this evening and Joanne Willoughby for one tomorrow."  
"Ziggy, center me on Sam right now," Al commanded.

Because of the thunderstorm and Dolores's death, Sam and the other orderlies were told to lock all patients in their room and take a head count. Sam managed locking the last few including Joanne into her room. He was about to move to the next room when he felt his foot step on something. Sam looked downward and realized that it was Joanne's sketchpad. He was about to return to the girl's room when his curiosity got the better of him.  
He flipped open the pictures and saw different things. A bird outside a window. A landscape of a spring day. What he assumed was an abstract self portrait of a blond woman in tears. Joanne clearly had a talent. Sam flipped through a few more pages when the tone changed. 

One picture showed a couch that he recognized as the one in Dr. McKendrick's office. It showed a naked man and woman lying on it clearly having sex. Sam could tell by the man's gray hair that he was McKendrick and the red haired woman underneath was Dolores.   
Sam flipped to the next page like a flip book. This time he saw the same redhead, Dolores standing to a side and Dr. McKendrick stood over a blond woman, Joanne. The next picture showed Dr. McKendrick back on his couch, having sex with another woman this time Joanne. The final picture showed Joanne looking off to the sidelines as Dr. McKendrick had his arm around another female patient. Her familiar dark curly hair and eyes revealed to Sam that she was Trudy Calavicci.   
The truth came to Sam. It was obvious. McKendrick had groomed Dolores. Then she became "too old" for him. He then passed his lust along to Joanne. Now, she was too old so he went to Trudy. That explained Nurse Marcus's hints about the "favorites" as well as why Joanne and Trudy were no longer friends. Pedophiles and rapists turned their victims against each other and two young women who hadn't been outside of an institution in years, it was all so easy to do. Sam somehow had a feeling that Joanne left her sketchbook on purpose for Sam to find, so someone could tell the truth if she or any of the other patients could not.

Armed with this information, Sam was ready to search for Al when he appeared right next to him clearly upset.  
"Sam they're giving Trudy a transorbital lobotomy!" He said. "The doc had been sleeping with her!"  
"I know I found out from Joanne," Sam said holding up her sketchpad. "He slept with her and Dolores too!"  
"They're giving her a lobotomy, Sam," Al said. "They're trying to cut the truth from her brain! They want to do the same to Joanne!"  
"I'm on it,"Sam said.

Nurse Blair and Grady entered the room Trudy shared with three other female patients. She felt someone roughly shake her awake. She opened her eyes, hoping that it was Sam or Allie. She smiled at first until she saw Nurse Blair and Grady standing over her. She gasped and was about to scream when Grady put her hand over her mouth. "Say nothing you stupid little monkey faced retard!" The orderly commanded. The voice didn't sound like Grady. It sounded like a lady, a harsh very scary lady. Instead of Grady, Trudy saw another woman that she had never seen before standing next to Nurse Blair. She glared at the younger disabled girl in a way that reminded Trudy of the witch in Hansel and Gretel, like she would eat her if she did something.   
Grady, or the Scary Lady as Trudy thought of her, lifted Trudy and put her on the gurney and strapped her by the arms and legs. The Scary Lady nodded to Nurse Blair as she gave her an injection. Trudy felt tired. She wanted to shout that she was sorry for being bad and that she promised to be a good girl but she couldn't. She wanted to wiggle her hands but she couldn't. She knew that they were going to take her to the Bad Place again and the doctor was going to shock her. Then he would take her and his clothes off, lie down on top of her, and hurt her again. 

She didn't remember exactly when the last time it happened but she knew that he hurt her before Christmas. Yes, it was Christmas because she remembered getting fat then. The doctor said over and over that she was a bad girl and he was disgusted with her.  
Then after that, the other doctor surguried her. She hurt so badly and all of that blood came from her stomach and out from under her. It hurt more than all the other times she was bleeding, the ones that Nurse Blair said was a sin because she was a girl and all girls sinned because Eve did. (Trudy didn't think it was fair for all girls to sin because of Eve, but she knew that she wasn't always a good girl so maybe the bleeding was because of her sinning, not Eve's) She was in the institution hospital for awhile and after that she wasn't fat anymore, or at least not fat like she was before.  
But it still hurt. It hurted so bad that Trudy tried to run to find Allie, knowing that he would take care of her and forgive her for being so bad. She didn't get very far when she stumbled on the ground. They caught her and shocked her. She hadn't been shocked in awhile and she forgot how much it hurt. After that she couldn't remember anything until she heard Allie call to her and saw him and her new other brother, Sam.

The Scary Lady and Nurse Blair wheeled Trudy into the familiar room adjacent to Dr. McKendrick's office. The wheels squeaked along the floor. A door opened as they entered the operating room. Dr. McKendrick stood over the electroconvulsive therapy machine. "Well my dear, Trudy," he said patting her on the head. "This will only hurt for a little while. Soon, you will forget everything."  
Trudy sniffed and whimpered, but McKendrick looked at the nurse. Blair put headphones over the girl's ears then wrapped her mouth with a guard and gauze. She then put gelatin on her forehead. "Ready Nurse?" McKendrick asked.  
"Ready doctor," Blair answered.   
McKendrick picked up a sharp ice pick from the table. Even though, she was drugged Trudy instinctively shut her eyes as the pick got closer to her forehead.

Sam and Al approached the hallway that Ziggy said was the operating room. Suddenly, Al cried out in pain. "Sam!" Sam turned towards his friend. Al looked very pale and his image seemed to fade. He looked almost deathly ill and in a lot of pain.  
"Al," Sam called trying to reach his friend.  
"Don't worry about me," Al commanded. "Save my sister!" He said as he faded away.  
"Al," Sam called. "Al?" But the only sound that he could hear was the rain pelting on the roof and the thunder mixed with the sound of frightened patients screaming.

After a few seconds, another man appeared in the spot vacated by Al. He was a prim looking gentleman in a Brooks Brothers suit. He looked familiar to Sam but he couldn't quite place where he had seen him before. "She's in here, Samuel." He said in an erudite British voice pointing to the room farthest from the left.  
"Who are you?" Sam asked. "Where's Al Calavicci?"  
The man rolled his eyes. "You are the second person to ask me that today and I must say that I am getting quite fatigued of answering these questions. I am Edward St. John V, the Project Director."  
"No Al Calavicci is the Project Director," Sam interrupted. "And you are not him."  
"If you are referring to Albert Calavicci as in that poor girl's brother then there is no record of him on the project whatsoever," St. John explained. "In fact there are very few records on Albert Calavicci at all."  
"That can't be," Sam remarked. "He was in the Navy and was an astronaut."  
"Yes your fellow Leaper, Ms. Alia Lange said something similar," St. John replied. "But there are no records of Mr. Calavicci at all after he informs his employer at Manero's Diner that he has to leave on account of a family emergency. It's as if all information on him has been wiped clean from Alpha's memory."  
Sam held up his hand. "Look we can talk about this later, I promised Al that I would save his sister and that's what I am going to do!" Just as he spoke, a large thunder crashed and lightning struck so hard that the walls shook. Sam and St. John were surrounded by darkness. "Let's hope this holds out until we can get Trudy and Joanne."

The operating room was surrounded by darkness. Dr. McKendrick put down the ice pick in annoyance. He checked the machine. "Damnit," he swore. "Even if the power does come on, this will need a few hours to warm up. Paula," he said to Nurse Blair then turned to Grady. "Come with me. Isaac you guard her." He motioned to Trudy. "Leave her here for now. We'll get back to her later." The doctor, nurse, and orderly left the room leaving the other orderly behind with the strapped teenage girl.  
The darkness was so overpowering that Trudy could only make shapes. After the three left, Trudy saw the door open a crack and someone enter. She could barely make out Isaac stand and say "What the-?" Before she heard the sound of someone punching someone else. She then felt a pair of hands take the guards off her mouth and the headphones off her ears. "Trudy, it's me, Sam." He said.  
As he unstrapped her, Trudy sat up and gave Sam a hug. "No time for that now, we have to get you out of here," Sam lowered her to the ground. "Can you walk?"   
Trudy took a step forward,,but felt the drug over power her. She shook her head. "No," she said.  
Sam picked her up and carried her on his hip. "It's okay, I'll carry you but first we have to get Joanne."  
"We don't have much time, Samuel," St. John explained.   
Trudy for the first time noticed the other man. "Where's Allie?"  
Sam wasn't sure how to answer that so he figured that the best way was to sugar coat the truth. "Allie went on ahead, but don't worry. He'll see you again real soon."   
Sam, Trudy, and St. John left the operating room not knowing that despite the darkness from the power outage, they were being watched.

Sam and the others stopped in front of Joanne's room as Sam gently lay Trudy along the wall then unlocked Joanne's room. The blond woman was curled up into a fetal position on her bed when Sam gently rubbed her shoulder to coax her awake. Her eyes opened and she said "Mr. Wiley," when Sam hushed her.  
"It's okay Joanne, I saw the pictures," Sam told her. "I know what Dr. McKendrick did to you." Joanne lowered her head sadly as Sam continued. "I'm going to get you and Trudy out. Can you move?"  
Joanne stood up and nodded. If he asked her to, she could fly.   
"Come on let's go," Sam said as he scooped Trudy up and ran with Joanne and St. John close behind.  
"It's scary," Joanne whimpered. She was right. The halls were pitch black with the only illumination being from the occasional lightning strike from the outside. Sam had to admit that it seemed like a horror movie and the sounds of the patients didn't help.   
"We should go out the front," St. John suggested. "The electric fence should be down."   
"No, the back," Sam disagreed. "There's a truck out by the loading dock." He led them down a long corridor into the basement. The sounds receded from upstairs and the musty mildew smell was overpowering. Sam pulled out the ring of keys and unlocked the back door. He poked his head out just to make sure the white truck was there. To his relief it was.   
Sam put Trudy down then leapt off the dock onto the ground. He reached for Trudy and lowered her next to him, then did the same to Joanne. St. John centered right next to the three.  
"Damn," St. John swore. "Alpha has been compromised. I am disconnected!"  
"Terrific," Sam said sarcastically. "What else can go wrong?"

Sam was about to open the truck door when he heard a voice call behind him. "Going somewhere?" Sam turned around to see Grady Matthews standing across from them holding a gun. Hello Other Thing That Can Go Wrong, Sam thought.  
"Grady," Sam said. "What they are doing here is wrong. These girls are hurt and I'm taking them out of this place."  
Grady's mouth twisted upward into a laugh. "Do you think I care about the loony and the retard? They are completely incidental, Dr. Beckett!"  
Sam started. "How did you know my name?"  
Grady feigned a look of disappointment. "Sam, after all we've been through together and you still don't recognize me?"   
Grady transformed before his very eyes. His shape changed into that of a dark haired woman with a severe harsh demeanor. As she transformed, Trudy yelled "It's the Scary Lady!"  
Sam recognized her alright, but knew her under another name.  
"Zoey."


	4. Every Action Has an Equal and Positive Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alia and Verbena are called in when Sam and St. John find themselves in a lot of trouble. Al is also summoned to be with his sister.

A Light Through That Window  
A Quantum Leap Fanfic  
By Auburn Red

Chapter Three: Every Action Has an Equal and Positive Reaction

Author's Note: Besides, Angst every one of my Readers knows that I am a fan of the gratuitous cameo and inside reference. This chapter has a few. Alia leaps into Alice "Skeeter" Gaspers, who was also played by Renee Coleman, from the movie A League of Their Own directed and written by Penny Marshall. Al has an encounter with Lt. Katell, also played by Dean Stockwell, from the Twilight Zone episode, "A Quality of Mercy." (owned by Rod Serling and CBS)   
St. John quotes the Alice's Adventures in Wonderland line "Curioser and Curioser." His actor, Roddy McDowall played the voice of Jervis Tetch/The Mad Hatter in Batman: The Animated Series.

There were many hard and difficult things about Quantum Leaping. One of them was the head rush one got when they returned and leapt back into their own body.  
Alia Lange waited until the dizziness passed and her focus and equilibrium returned before she stepped off the Accelerator. Her eyes adjusted from the bright lights of the Leap to the typical light of Project Quantum Leap HQ. She jumped off the Accelerator and warmly high fived and hugged her Observer, Dr. Verbena Beeks as she exited the Imaging Chamber.  
"Another successful Leap ladies congratulations," Dr. "Gooshie" Gushman said giving them a thumbs up. "I tell you Leaping is so much easier now that you and Sam have returned home."  
"Yeah easier for you, Gooshie," Alia quipped. "All that sitting there must take a lot out on you." Gooshie shrugged.

"It went very well," Verbena assured her friend.  
"Still it would have been nicer if the Peaches had actually won," Alia said. She had leapt into the body of Alice "Skeeter" Gasper, a baseball player in the All American Girls Professional Baseball League and a Rockford Peach during WWII.   
"That wasn't necessarily the mission," Verbena reminded her. "You did what you set out to do." Alia shrugged. Alice was a particularly superstitious and neurotic woman who was so fearful that when she was recruited, she almost turned down the offer because it was made on Friday the 13th. Alia was there to restore Alice's confidence and face her fears. She was also there for a deeper purpose: to save Alice's friend and fellow player Betty "Spaghetti" Horn from committing suicide following the death of her husband, George who was killed in action. Thanks to Alia's own personal history with mental illness and Verbena's psychiatric training (not to mention Verbena's knowledge of baseball), it ended up being a satisfactory Leap. Even though the Peaches lost the World Series game to the Racine Belles, both Alice and Betty's faith were restored and Ziggy reported that not only did they live to ripe old ages, but they attended the AAGPBL reunion in Cooperstown.

Alia looked around the control room. "Looks like you did some decorating while I was away." The Control Room was a lot larger than it was before and had more tech personnel working than just Gooshie. She nodded at the hovering white orb that was the personification of Ziggy. "And gave Ziggy a fresh coat of paint?"  
"Ziggy?" Gooshie asked.  
Alia pointed upwards. "Yeah usually she's blue."  
The techs looked confused. "Alpha's always been white."  
"But Ziggy's always been blue," Alia said as though the Chief Technician was a slow study.  
"Alia, who's Ziggy?" Gooshie asked.  
Alia laughed. "Come on you know who Ziggy is. She's the AI who runs this place! Ziggy?"  
"I am the Artificial Intelligence and my name is Alpha," a male voice said. "I was programmed by the Project Director, Edward St. John V. I don't know of any Ziggy."  
"So Ziggy transitioned," Ali's said trying to make light of the confusing situation. "I'm okay with that." She then started. "Wait who is the Project Director?"  
"Edward St. John V," Alpha explained.   
"What happened to Al?" Alia asked.  
"Alia, who's Al?" Verbena inquired.  
"Come on Verbena, you know Al," Ali's said. "Al Calavicci? Dark hair, about yay high, smokes cigars? Dresses like a leprechaun mated with a Smurf? He's kind of easy to notice."  
Verbena and Gooshie exchanged glances. "I'm sorry, Alia, I don't know who you are talking about," Verbena said.  
Alia tried to laugh. "Okay what's the gag? Is this New Leaper Initiation Prank? You accept me so now I'm one of you."  
"Well since you're the only other Leaper besides Sam um no," Gooshie said.

The Control Room door opened as Edward St. John V and PQL's medical doctor, Tina entered. Alia turned to the newcomers. "Tell me that either of you know someone named Al Calavicci?"  
Tina pointed in the direction of the Waiting Room. Since Verbena was now promoted to Observer, it was Tina's job to talk to the visitors. "The man in the waiting room, Jack Wiley, knows a patient at the mental institution that he works at named Trudy Calavicci. They might be related."  
"They are related," Alpha said. "Albert Calavicci is Theresa Calavicci, also known as Trudy's, brother."  
"Wait Al has a sister?" Alia asked.  
Tina nodded. "According to him, the poor girl has Down's Syndrome and has been in three institutions since her father died. But how do you know her brother?"  
"Well he is or was or will be the Project Director and is Sam's Observer," Alia answered.  
"Ms. Lange," St. John said pompously. "I assure you that I, Edward St. John V, am the Project Director and Samuel Beckett's Observer."  
"Wait this is insane," Alia said. "You guys must have heard of Al Calavicci. He was an Admiral in the U.S. Navy and was an astronaut at NASA."  
Alpha spoke up. "There are no records of an Albert Calavicci listed at either NASA or the US Navy."  
"Look he exists, he's the Director, and Ziggy's the AI," Alia said beginning to grow terrified. Since she defected from Lothos and joined Project Quantum Leap, she hadn't had a manic episode. Was she slipping again? "I'm not nuts!" Was she?  
Verbena approached her friend. "No one is saying that you are. The fact that you remember things differently may not be a sign of insanity."  
"Then what is it?" Alia asked.  
"You may have memories of a different time stream," St. John suggested. "It is a common occurrence in this business, a tedious one but it does happen."

"So because something happened on Sam's Leap, Al doesn't exist anymore," Alia asked. But then remembered Alpha saying that Al was Trudy's brother. "Or rather does exist but is not the Director?"  
"Exactly," St. John replied. "Alpha are there any records at all of an Albert Calavicci?"  
"Yes," Alpha answered.  
"What is the most recent one?" St. John replied.  
"On March 4, 1953,Albert Calavicci informs his employer at Manero's Diner that he has to leave early for a family emergency. He purchases a train ticket to Horicon, New York and arrives at his destination. There are no records following this."  
*That's it," Alia asked. "No missing persons report, no police blotter, obituary? Nothing?"  
"There is nothing," Alpha answered. "In fact, all information on Al Calavicci beyond this point disappears."  
"Does he disappear himself?" Verbena asked.  
"Not necessarily," Alpha said. "The information on him has disappeared as though his existence has been deleted from my memory."  
"'Curiouser and curiouser,' Alice said," St. John quoted. "Was it caused by disruption in the time stream?"  
"I am uncertain," Alpha said. "The only disruption appears to be the extraction of Albert Calavicci's existence. It appears the files on him were forcibly removed."  
"That's impossible," Gooshie said. "No hacker can get into your files."

A chill ran through Alia. "Lothos could!"   
They looked as she shuddered at the thought of Ziggy, now Alpha's counterpart, her one time leader compromising their files. This was her new home. These were her new people, better than the old ones and she would protect them with her life.  
"Does Lothos have that capability?" St. John asked.  
"He didn't when I was there but who knows how much he has grown since then?" Alia suggested. "Plus, they aren't above getting and changing information the old fashioned way, through bribery, threats, or stealing."  
"Even if he could," Gooshie reminded her. "He would have to get through several checkpoints, security clearances, about a dozen fail-safes, and a firewall so massive you could see it from Outer Space. He would have to had help from the inside."  
Some of the employees looked at Alia. "Don't look at me! I haven't talked to Lothos since I got here."  
"You used to work with him," Tina said accusingly. "How do we know for sure that you still don't?"  
"I guess you don't," Alia said witheringly. "If I were still working for Lothos, why would I suggest that he was behind this? I could have said nothing and reported back to him."  
"Plus she was in 1943," Verbena said. "She would not have been able to access the mainframe."

"There is a disruption in Dr. Beckett's Leap," Alpha said.  
"What is it Alpha?" St. John inquired.  
"Theresa Calavicci and Joanne Willoughby are scheduled for transorbital lobotomies within the next 24 hours!"The AI said.  
"Oh dear," St. John said. "I must go help him!" He jetted to the Imaging Chamber.  
"So what do we do?" Alia asked.  
"For now we wait," Verbena suggested.  
"I'll go talk to Jack Wiley see what else I can get out of him," Tina said. She continued to eye Alia suspiciously before leaving the room.  
Alia rolled her eyes. "I guess the past really isn't forgotten," she said. She knew that many of the employees were still suspicious of her, Al in particular. He once told her "You're on the team, that doesn't mean we're on the same side." She knew that Al was someone that she had to work to earn his trust. But she had proven herself many times before. She even helped Sam get home. She knew that Sam and Verbena trusted her, but it seemed no one else did. Would it ever be enough? Would her slate ever be wiped clean?   
"Don't mind them," Verbena said. "You redeemed yourself many times over. You're a different person now."  
"I wish I could believe that," Alia said.

Suddenly, a power surge filtered through Alpha causing him to flash almost blindingly before returning to normal. "What was that?" Alia asked.  
"Another disruption," Alpha replied.  
"We've been disconnected from Sam and St. John," Gooshie replied.  
"That's bad," Alia guessed.  
"It usually means that there is interference or something happened to them," Gooshie replied. "Chances are, they are in trouble."  
Alia barely waited for Gooshie to finish before she headed for the Accelerator. Verbena held her arm for a second. "Alia, you just came back from a Leap. You're not ready."  
"I don't care," Alia said. "Sam is my friend. He's the first one who really believed in me! If he's in trouble, I want to save him like he saved me!"  
"You aren't going without me," the psychiatrist insisted as she headed for the Imaging Chamber.  
"Wait," Gooshie interrupted. "Are you still connected to Alpha?"  
Verbena checked her handlink. "It seems to be working."  
"They probably aren't expecting us," Alia said. "They'll be focused on Sam."  
"Okay good luck," Gooshie said as the women left.

Alia found herself inside the ladies' restroom of Belleville Institute for the Mentally Ill. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw a woman with a dark 1950's bouffant and dressed in a white nurse's uniform and cap. "Oh shit!" Alia said.   
"I would not have used that exact phrase but my thoughts exactly," Verbena said as she appeared by her side. She checked the handlnk and read. "You are Nurse Sophia Marcus born in 1923 and have been working here since 1946. You are the assistant under head nurse, Paula Blair. Former employees have reported abuse towards the patients but nothing came of it. Sophia makes it a point to not get involved."  
"Usually when someone doesn't want to get involved, then there is a reason that they should," Alia quipped. "What about Sam?"  
Before Verbena could answer, a deafening crash of thunder struck the building. The power went out and everything was pitch black. "Great, it's dark and we're inside a mental institution," Alia smirked. "This isn't creepy at all." She sighed with relief that Nurse Marcus had a flashlight with her so she turned it on.  
Verbena looked at the handlink. "According to Alpha, the lobotomies were never performed."  
"Sam must have got them out," Alia sighed with relief.  
"Yes but Jack Wiley was shot outside of Belleville," Verbena said. The two women thought as one as they ran from the ladies' room down to the hall. 

Alia was about to turn a corner when a hand grabbed her ankle as a voice said, "Nurse Marcus!" Alia started with fright to see a man with fly away chestnut hair and dressed in a dirty gray shirt and underwear reclined near a wall. "I don't like the dark! I'm afraid of the dark!" He rocked back and forth.  
Despite Sam's predicament, Alia felt sorry for the man trapped by his own fears. "His name is Patrick Ryan," Verbena said reading the information. "He has various phobias and has been hospitalized for the past five years."  
"Who's the colored woman?" Patrick said terrified at the sight of Verbena.  
"Hey," Alia said angrily.  
"I've heard worse," Verbena said. "This man is confused and needs help."  
"The dark is scary," Patrick said rocking himself again.  
Alia knelt down and looked Patrick in the eyes. "Do you have a nightlight or anything?"  
Patrick shook his head. "I had a flashlight that Mr. Wiley gave me, but Nurse Blair took it."  
Alia handed him her flashlight. "Here you can take mine. You know something, Patrick? Night happens to be my favorite time of day."  
"But the monsters are there," Patrick stammered. "You don't know what's in there."  
"I know but during the day there is so much noise and confusion, and constant chatter," Alia said. "Sometimes it can be loud. But night time is quiet and peaceful. You can look at the stars and just step back and think."  
"Really?" Patrick asked.  
Alia nodded. "Each of the stars are like a blanket that lets you wish, dream, and think without the noise around."  
"Thank you Nurse Marcus," Patrick said. Alia wasn't sure how much he understood, but the fact that he held the flashlight seemed to calm him down.   
"Now where's your room?" Alia asked. Patrick pointed to a room three doors to the right. She gently led him to the room and closed the door behind him.

"That was a kind thing that you did," Verbena told her friend.   
Alia blushed. "Looks like we'll have to use the handlink for illumination."  
Verbena turned it on. "Did you see the bruises on that poor man?" She asked.  
Alia nodded. "He didn't look too clean either. Between him and those girls getting lobotomies, this place seems like the seventh circle of Hell."  
"It is certainly a shame to the mental health profession," Verbena said. "But then many of these institutions were at the time. They preferred to lock people away and punish them for their illnesses rather than help them recover." Alia nodded. She couldn't picture such a warm caring individual like Dr. Verbena Beeks working at a place like this. Then again chances were that very few psychiatric hospitals in 1953 would hire an African-American female doctor.  
"It wasn't much better in my day either," Alia said with a shudder remembering the bad treatment she received when she was hospitalized, before Zoey and Lothos found her.

The two women walked on. Alia looked around to see if anyone was watching. When she couldn't see anyone, she and Verbena escaped through the front door and ran through the large yard. Alia glanced at the fence. "It's a good thing the power's out. That thing's electric. We can get past it." They wandered through the parking lot as Verbena pointed out a tan Buick. "There's Sophie's car!" Alia fished into Sophie's purse for her keys. Then jumped into the car and started it.   
As she drove, she noticed something. "What's that light in the back coming from?" She drove to the back of the institution.

When she arrived, Alia could see two men and two young women held at gunpoint by another man. At first, she didn't recognize the man standing in front of the girls as if protecting them from the bullet. "My God, that's Sam!" Verbena said. Alia swerved to the left. Through the headlights she could see the assasin transform into an all too familiar face. "Zoey!" Alia said with surprise.  
Alia only admitted to herself that she was half tempted to run Zoey over, but she knew that saving her friends was more important.  
She put the car into a halt and opened the side door. "Get in," she commanded.  
Sam blinked in surprise to see his fellow Leaper. "Alia?" He asked.  
"Get in," Alia repeated. Sam didn't wait to be told again. He motioned for the girls to get in the car with him, then he himself jumped in.   
Sam held Joanne with one arm and Trudy with another in the back seat. Verbena figuring that she could be more useful comforting the frightened young women sat in back with Sam while St. John sat in front next to Alia.  
Sam made the introductions as Alia raced the car away from the hospital. "Trudy, Joanne these are my friends Alia Lange and Dr. Beeks. They are here to help us too."

Grady Matthews AKA Zoey reeled about as the car roared away. She couldn't believe that traitorous bitch, Alia helped Sam and the others escaped. She fumed at the failure.  
She heard a sarcastic slow clap and saw a man approach her. "Beautiful," he said. He appeared in sight of her flashlight dressed in a gray suit and smoking a long thin cigarette.  
"It's about time you showed up," Zoey said sarcastically as her Observer appeared. "What took you so long?"  
"I had to do some work on removing Albert Calavicci from the picture," he said. "Lothos removed his files from their system. Then I disconnected St. John from their pitiful AI."   
"Allowing the cavalry to arrive," Zoey pointed out about their rescue. She saw him turn off the scrambler. "Why did you reconnect them?"  
"Having them completely dumb, deaf, and blind takes out the fun doesn't it?" The Observer said.  
"We could just follow them and kill them ourselves," Zoey suggested.  
"No," The Observer shouted. "You know how this is supposed to go! Al Calavicci has to be sent for. The girl has to die and Al has to be the one to do it! Otherwise this goes away!"  
"I am aware of the plan," Zoey said. "We have to destroy them! We have to devour his soul and bring him to Lothos! Are you?"  
The Observer glared as the power in the institution came back on. "I know why I'm here, the only reason I'm here! You don't need to remind me! My soul was devoured a long time ago! We follow the plan and we do it correctly. Now, be a good girl, or boy, and go let McKendrick know that he has two empty seats for breakfast in the morning. Then we'll move on, got it?"  
Zoey rolled her eyes. Her Observer was clever and experienced but she knew that the two of them would constantly butt heads. When it came down to it, they were too much alike. "I got it...Al!"   
Al Calavicci gave a sardonic leer and followed her as she entered the institution to inform Dr. McKendrick that Joanne Willoughby and Trudy Calavicci had escaped with Jack Wiley and Sophia Marcus.

"Thank God, I am reconnected," St. John said as Alia turned the corner farthest from the institution.  
Through the dashboard light, Alia could see the lights in the institution come back on and could hear a blaring siren. "Looks like they discovered our vanishing act," Alia said. She sped the car as fast as it would go and made a dangerous u turn away from the hospital.  
"Where did you learn to drive like that?" Sam asked.  
"One of my Leaps," Alia explained. "I was a female stock car racer."  
"I believe the contents in my stomach have shifted," St. John moaned.  
Suddenly, they were followed by a police car and its familiar alarm and red lights. "Perfect," Ali's said sarcastically. "Just perfect." She then turned to ditch the cruiser by driving along a smaller country road. As the car bumped into each rock and hole, the passengers jumped. "Could you not hit every single one?" St. John asked.  
Alia then turned the car back to the main road to find the police car heading towards them and another approaching from the other side. "Now what, do we out run them?" Alia asked.  
"I have a better idea," Sam said. "Turn right in here." He pointed to an area with several trees.  
"But there's barely any road," Alia said.  
"Just do it," Sam said.   
"Oh well okay," Alia said as she pulled the car over.   
"Turn off the engine," Sam said. After Alia obeyed, he then said. "Now everybody get down." They all ducked except Verbena and St. John. Sam's trick was rewarded as the police cars that had chased them sped right past them.  
"We used their own speed trap against them," Sam said.  
"How did you learn how to do that?" Alia asked.  
"One of my previous Leaps, I was a blockade runner for a bootlegger," Sam answered.  
"We need to talk about your Leaps," St. John suggested.

"Well that takes care of them, but where do we go from here?" Alia asked.  
"Well Jack and Sophia's houses in Burlington are definitely out," Sam said. "They'll be looking for us there."  
"Perhaps we should go to the police," St. John suggested.  
"Good idea," Alia said sarcastically. "Who are they going to believe? The doctor in charge of the hospital or the disgruntled employees who kidnapped two of their patients?"  
"Plus Sophie said, before Alia jumped into her, that McKendrick's cousin is the chief of police. They'll get sent back to the hospital and we'll be the ones arrested," Sam remarked.  
Verbena looked at her handlink for possibilities. "How about Jack Wiley's family vacation home in Horicon on Brant Lake? It's about 90 minutes away."  
"Sounds like a plan," Sam said. "Any other suggestions?" When no one answered, Alia restarted the car. "Let's go to the lake," she said.

By the time, they arrived at the lake house, it was one o'clock in the morning. Alia looked up and down admiring the two story quaint white house with blue shutters and doors. "Very nice, reminds me of our vacation home on Emma Lake," she observed.  
St. John read the handlink. "Mr. Wiley inherited the home from his late parents as well as a great sum of wealth."  
"He probably wanted to do something with that inheritance and get his hands dirty rather than have everything handed to him," Sam guessed.  
St. John nodded. "An idealist sadly crushed by the reality and limitations of his chosen profession of psychiatry in the mid 20th century."   
Sam gently led Joanne and Trudy out of the car. "Are you girls okay?"  
They both nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Wiley," Joanne spoke for them.   
"You can call me Sam," Sam told the blond woman.  
"Sam," Joanne said. Trudy dug her heels and didn't say anything, but she offered a thin smile. Sam wondered if her silence was a symptom of post trauma or a longing to be with her brother again and realizing that technically she was with strangers, that as far as she knew would be no nicer to her than the people at the place where she came from.   
"Let's get inside," Sam said. "If I can find Jack's keys." Sam searched the front porch under the welcome mat. No, they weren't there. He reached up the top of the screen door, but they weren't there either. He cupped his chin thoughtfully and looked downward at the yard surrounding the porch. It was surrounded by rocks that were in perfect symmetry except one. One rock jutted a bit farther from the others. Sam had a hunch and picked up the rock. "Bingo," he said as he picked up a house key underneath the false rock. He unlocked the door.

"Who's there?" A male voice with a heavy rural New England accent said.  
Sam and the others turned around with fear to see an older man dressed in blue overalls and a yellow straw hat. "Mr. Wiley, you're here early this time of year."  
"Uh hi.."Sam began.  
"Bob Tucker, family caretaker," St. John supplied.  
"Bob," Sam said. "Took some time off from work and thought I could use some R&R like the doctor ordered."  
"Good advice," Bob said.   
"Oh uh this is my girlfriend, Sophie and her cousins, Joanne and Trudy. Thought that I would show them the place." He pointed at the house. "This is the place."  
Alia looked at it. "It's nice, Hon. Now I better get these two in bed otherwise I'm going to hear it from their folks,." She gently motioned the girls forward. They both timorously approached her, but followed her. "Come on girls." She said as she led them inside.  
"Looks like she's gonna have her hands full," Bob said. "Neither of them look all there if you forgive my saying so, Mr. Wiley."  
"Well I am helping her take care of them," Sam said. "Everything work in there, gas, electric, water?"  
"It did when I checked on it this afternoon," Bob said.   
"Thanks Bob," Sam said.  
"You're welcome, Mr. Wiley," Bob said. "You need me for anything."  
"I'll let you know," Sam said.  
After Bob left, Sam turned to St. John. "I don't know how long the story will keep. Can we trust him?"  
St. John read Alpha's information. "He has been a loyal family retainer for years. Spotless record."

About an hour later, Alia and Verbena came downstairs from the rooms that they offered the girls. "We finally got them to sleep," Alia said. "I think they liked that the beds were comfortable though."  
"How are they?" Sam asked.  
"Traumatized and exhausted," Verbena said. "Not to mention that Trudy has a serious cough and is developing a fever, probably pneumonia. I don't believe either of which were attended to before we arrived. What happened to them was clearly monstrous."  
The Leapers and Observers told their versions of the events so far.   
"Well I'm glad we got them out no matter what the outcome," Alia said. "They would be vegetables by now."  
"They would be dead by now," Verbena observed. "The lobotomies would have been poorly performed and would have killed them."  
"Just to avoid the scandal of McKendrick sexually assaulting them, and he would have feigned illness on the girl's part," St. John added. "Admittedly, Trudy is unwell but more than likely that isn't what she died from, well not solely that. A truly despicable man."  
"That's how a 16 year old girl dies from pneumonia in 1953, Al," Sam said softly. Now that Sam knew the answer, more than anything, he wished Al was there to learn it too.

Thinking of Al reminded him. "Tomorrow, I'm going to telegram their families and Dolores Burton's. They're going to learn the truth about what happened to their daughter, their wife, and their sister."  
Alia scoffed. "You sure you want to do that, Sam?"  
"Why not?" Sam asked. "They deserve the right to know what happened to them!"  
"Yeah but will they care?" Alia asked. "After all, they were the ones who had them insitutionalized!"  
"Al didn't," Sam said. "They were separated when they were children. He was sent to an orphanage and she was sent to an institution! He had no say in it and I know he would have taken care of her himself if he did!"  
"Well maybe that's Al and he might have been the exception," Alia said. "But Dolores and Joanne's families didn't. All because they didn't fit their ideas of perfection! Their minds were different, their feelings were too strong, too intense, too large for them! They didn't want to help or understand women like that. They wanted to put them away! That's what people like that do to people like…."  
"People like you," Sam guessed. He gently touched Alia's shoulder. She at first didn't respond, but Verbena nodded. "You were like them?" Sam asked.

Alia looked downward. "I lived in Regina, only child and my parents were rich. I had a head for Science and Technology, but that wasn't appropriate for a young lady, according to my mother. My father didn't care. He liked encouraging my curiosity and experiments. He died when I was eleven and I had a hard time with it. After he died, the house became pretty but cold, look but don't touch like a museum.  
My mother remarried when I was thirteen, then I started acting strange. I would fly off in a million directions, filled with euphoria, going from place to place, even doing stuff like shoplifting, fighting, taking drugs. Then I'd get really depressed, kept crying and wouldn't get out of bed. My mother kept thinking it was hormones or grief, or rage because of her second marriage. She didn't know what was going on, didn't want to know what was going on. I embarrassed her and Rick, my stepfather.   
When I started university, things got worse. I made good grades, top honors, was on the fast track to a good career in programming and software development, but I was a mess. I starved and cut myself, got hooked on coke and pills, and got arrested a few times. I ended up in hospital after I tried to kill myself by slitting my wrists. Bipolar is the clinical term, but my mother and Rick preferred to call it 'not in their house.' They sent me to a hospital to pay money for my care and that's all they did, no visits, no calls. I was an embarrassment. I was released but had nowhere to go, so I tried to kill myself again by swallowing a cocktail of seconol and barbital. I was clinically dead for two minutes but was revived. That's when I met Zoey. She was the "psychiatrist" that treated me and said that there was a place that I could be useful. It was either agree to their terms or she could arrange for the overdose to be permanent. I didn't have much of a choice: evil or death. Zoey arranged for me to fly to London and introduced me to Lothos and the rest you know."  
"I'm surprised you handle Leaping so well," Sam said amazed.  
"I didn't when I worked for Lothos. That's part of the reason why I was the "lovable" kook that you knew so well," Alia said. "Since I've come here, I've been doing well with medication."  
"That's why I volunteered to be her Observer," Verbena said. "To monitor and aid her if she has problems mentally though I am proud to say that most difficulties have been minor. I attribute that to a strength in character and purpose."  
Alia blushed. "Well it helps to have a good friend at your back. But as long as I take medicine and I have Verbena and my own thoughts to remind myself who I really am, I'm okay. Plus, helping people in the past gives me a greater purpose."  
" I understand completely," Sam touched his friend by the shoulder. "I'm sorry for what happened to you in the past, Alia. Your mother and Rick missed out on knowing what a great woman that you are and have become. You may be right, they may reject them. But at least they will know. No matter what, they won't wonder what really happened to them and whether they could have saved them. They deserve that peace at least."   
"I hope you're right, Sam," Alia said.

"What is the probable outcome?" Sam asked.  
St. John checked his records. "Well 45% that Belleville comes under fire for abuse as well as McKendrick himself is charged for many crimes among them malpractice, statutory rape, and overseeing abortions, which as we know, in 1953 was illegal."  
"Abortions?" Sam asked. St. John then read Alpha's information about Dolores, Joanne, and Trudy's pregnancies and forced abortions.  
"Son of a bitch," Sam muttered about McKendrick.   
"Just when he couldn't get more unappealing," Alia scoffed.   
"Whatever you do, don't let Al find that out," Sam said.  
"Are you sure that we should keep this from him?" Verbena asked.  
Sam looked up as though he were having a conversation with Al. "Hey, Al sorry about your sister who was not only abused and traumatized, but her doctor raped her and got her pregnant. On the bright side, you were an uncle but for only about two or three months because he performed what was no doubt a very harmful and forced abortion. Oh not before giving her a lobotomy of course that would have killed her.' Look I don't know the Willoughbys or Burton that well, so I don't know how they will take the news. They might be more furious with us for not telling them, but I do know Al and he may kill McKendrick for that."  
"It doesn't help that there is 53% chance that in two days time, McKendrick dies from what appears to be a self inflicted gun shot wound to the head," St. John said.  
"And the horrible part is…?" Alia prompted them. They gave her a link. "I know sorry. I guess I still have a toe in Evil Leaper Land. The guy is scum."  
"He is," Verbena said. "He deserves the highest punishment that he can get for inflicting such pain on those girls and their families, but by the law. Only then, will his crimes be exposed and he receives the retribution that he deserves."  
"We're not here for revenge, Alia," St. John said. "We are here to set things right."  
"I know, I know," Alia said.  
"For now Al is probably better off not knowing some of the details," Sam said. "As for the rest, we'll see when they get here. In the meantime, I have telegrams to send."

The next morning, Sam arrived at the Western Union office and sent three telegrams. One to Dr. Charles and Mrs. Nora Willoughby in Saratoga Springs, to Mr. Henry Burton of Albany, and to Mr. Albert Calavicci in the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

"Burn three, take them to a garden and pin roses on them, one with GAC and hold the breath. Three Frog sticks and Atlanta Specials on the side," Al announced as he put the order in the roller and sent it to Dave, the cook on duty. Dave nodded understanding and prepared three hamburgers.  
Al delivered eggs over easy and tomato soup to a table while he heard another call "Waiter," and ask how long their pastrami on rye was going to be. "Just a few more minutes sir," Al said out of breath. He ran as his co-workers, Dottie, Mae, and Joy also delivered orders and cleaned tables.   
"Check please," a customer called, but not before the blustering voice of the owner/manager, Joe Manero called him over. He stood over the register and held up a piece of paper. "Calavicci, here now!"  
Al approached his boss. "What I have here is a receipt for $4.75! What I don't have is the $4.75! Where the Hell is it?"  
Al sighed remembering the obviously homeless man that he gave breakfast to earlier that day. "He said that he had the money but he had to go get it. I-!"  
"Never let them leave without paying,Idiot," the owner commanded. This wasn't the first time Al was at the receiving end of Joe Manero's temper and sharp tongue. "It's your mistake and it's coming out of your pay!"  
"But," Al was about to object but he sighed. "Yes sir." He said wearily.  
He muttered under his breath to Dottie. "You sorry son of a-"   
"Don't let him get to you," the older woman said to him. "He just wants to get you started."  
"It's working," Al whispered harshly.   
"Am I getting my coffee or not, Calavicci?" Joe commanded.  
Al took an empty cup and poured some coffee into it with cream. He was half tempted to spit into it before Dottie held up the cup. "No, Hon, allow me," she said as she hacked a large spit wad into the cup. Al smirked as Dottie winked and handed her boss the cup.  
"That is the best coffee I ever had," Joe said delighted.  
"I put my heart and soul into it," Dottie said as she and Al suppressed a knowing grin.  
Al approached the couple that had asked for their check.

He stood in front of a Japanese and Caucasian couple, a few years older than him. They were a familiar sight to him, Lt. Paul Katell and Kimiko Yamuri-Katell, his wife. Katell was mostly a serious man, but had a sardonic witty sense of humor that Al often returned. Most of their jokes zeroed in on the friendly rivalry between the Army, which Katell had been a member, and the Navy, which Al wanted to join (but didn't have a prayer of enrolling in Annapolis).   
Kimiko however was a pleasant easygoing cheerful woman who brought a kinder more loving side to her husband. Al knew bits of pieces of their story: that they met during the time of Occupation in Japan after WWII. That Katell had sought her family out because he became close to her late brother, Lt. Yamuri "closer than most people will ever know" and he said that Yamuri and Kimiko saved him from the real enemy: himself. Al didn't understand it, but he sort of hoped that one day he would meet someone who would do that for him.  
"Okay we had one pastrami on rye for the gentleman, one chicken salad for the lady, two slices of apple pie and two coffees one black and one with milk, that comes to-" Al searched his hands. He was holding his notepad but he couldn't find his pencil. "Where? Where?"  
Kimiko pointed to his ear. "Behind your ear, Al."  
Al scoffed in embarrassment and picked up the pencil. "Strange but true facts," he said.  
"Now see that's what happens with future Navy men," Katell quipped. "You'll be too soft on those ships. In the Army, we knew exactly where everything was, even our pencils."  
"Bet you even fifty, your men knew exactly where they wanted to stick those pencils," Al mocked. Katell glared, but couldn't argue that point.  
"Do not listen to him,Al," Kimiko said. "You will make a fine sailor."  
"You'd make a better soldier," Katell added.  
"Actually I want to be a Navy pilot," Al said.  
"Figures a squid with wings," Katell grunted.  
"Say what you will Mr. Katell," Al said realistically. "I can't be either."  
"Why not," Kimiko asked.  
"Annapolis," Al said. Katell nodded understanding.  
Kimiko was confused. "What is Annapolis?"  
"The top Naval Academy in the country," Katell said. "Like West Point was for us Army men." He pointed at himself. "Highly restrictive and competitive."  
"You can't get in unless you are somebody or know somebody," Al said. "And I'm not either one. So my only chance of seeing the inside of a cockpit would be if we have another war and I get drafted."  
Katell got an uncomfortable stare. "Ten cents worth of free advice, you better hope there isn't."  
Even though Katell was army proud, there was something that shamed and traumatized him about war. Al never asked but he wondered what it was. Was he a POW? He assumed it had something to do with Kimiko's brother. Had he killed him and later regretted that he killed the man who could have been his brother in law? Maybe, he just simply had seen too many men die, enough for a lifetime. Al couldn't blame him for that.  
Al tried to lighten the subject. "Well, right now, the only action I get is waiting on G.I. Joe here!" He teased nodding at Katell.  
Katell smirked. "Good job, insulting the man who has the power to give you a tip."  
Al shook his head. "No no I am just helping this beautiful woman-"he nodded at Kimiko "-rethink her decision to marry one of the ants that went marching one by one." Katell smirked.  
Kimiko good naturedly laughed. "It was merely mercenary," she teased. "He saved my life." She nodded at the scarred left leg, a reminder of an injury from a long ago bombing. She smiled at her husband who gave one of his rare smiles back.  
"Actually your family saved mine," he said. They held hands lost in each other's eyes.  
Al cleared his throat. "Beautiful, I envy you. I hope I'm so lucky." He checked the receipt. "Your order comes to $6.50." He placed the check down just as the bell rang. "Order up, Table Eight," Dave called.

Al picked up the three plates of hamburgers and passed them to three teenage girls who were seated on a table with their school textbooks and papers. One girl, Ruthie, a red head, just left the jukebox as it played her selection, "Don't Let the Stars Get In Your Eyes." She sang along with the song as she sat down. "Doesn't Perry Como have the dreamiest voice?" She rhetorically asked Al. "He is delicious!"  
"Yes, I could eat him with a spoon," Al said sarcastically.   
"Not as good as Frank's," the blond girl, Peggy said.   
"No nothing beats Frank," Ruthie agreed as the three girls swooned romantically about their favorite singer.  
"Here are your orders, three hamburgers, one with cheese and no onions, with fries and Coca Colas." Al said.  
The girls gave thanks as they ate and returned to their studies. "How are my favorite bobbysoxers?" Al asked.  
"Great we passed the science test thanks to your help, Al," Helen, the brunette said. Al tutored the three girls in their studies and recently helped them with a science exam. He acted like a big brother figure to them as they talked about their studies, favorite celebrities, boys at school, and so on. Al felt wistful as he imagined another girl about their age who, if the universe were fair, would be sitting with them, giggling and gossipping about the same things and no doubt driving her brother crazy with her dates and teenage troubles.  
"I didn't," Peggy made a face. "I couldn't remember the Third Law.   
Al looked at her test. "It's when one body exerts force on a second body, the second body simultaneously exerts a force equal in magnitude and opposite in direction of the first body. In other words, every action has an equal but positive reaction."  
"I'll take your word for it," the blond teenager said rolling her eyes.  
"What are you girls working on now?" Al asked.  
"We have a test on Shakespeare," Helen explained.  
"Ah," Al said. He then stepped back and moved his hands. "The quality of mercy is not strained/It droppeth as the gentle rain from Heaven/Upon the place beneath/It is twice blessed/It blesseth him that gives and him that takes/Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes/The throned monarch better than his crown." The girls looked at him in surprise as did the Katells who had just left. "Portia, The Merchant of Venice."   
Helen checked the quote. "Word perfect."  
"You sure are smart, Al," Ruthie said. "How come you're here instead of in college?"  
Al was about to answer when a customer's voice bellowed. "Hey, Olivier get over here!"  
Al rolled his eyes and answered. "Because someday you will learn that when you live in the real world, you don't always get to choose what you do," he said bitterly and approached the customer.

A well dressed businessman complained about his meal. "I ordered these eggs scrambled and there is a fly in my soup!"  
Al winced, biting back the punchline to several jokes, offered his apologies, and removed the food. After a few seconds, he returned the order and cleaned up what was left of the Katell's table. He smiled as he picked up an envelope addressed, "To the Future Flying Squid, a gift from the U.S. Army." Al laughed as he opened the envelope to see a $5.00 tip.   
Al waited on some more people as he saw the Sawyers walk in. His voice tried to be welcome but he was strained and tired. "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer, Welcome to Manero's Diner, Home of the World Famous Manero Pastrami on Rye." He led his landlords to their regular Table 12. "Can I start you with a drink?"  
"I'll have a coffee with sugar, Sugar," she said with a smile.  
"I'll have the same with milk," Mr. George Sawyer said. "By the way, Al thanks for helping my wife move the furniture."  
Al glanced at Mrs. Sawyer not missing her wink. "Well I like to be on hand," he said.  
"I hate to ask you another favor, but my wife's car is having trouble again," the landlord began.  
Al sighed. "Is it the oil gauge again?" Or rather the sugar that Marilyn put in the gauge to get Al to come fix it.  
"It appears to be the brake line this time," Sawyer answered.  
The brake line that she probably cut, Al thought. "You know me, sir. I'll be there as soon as I can, but my shift at the factory begins at 8:00." I miss sleep, Al thought rubbing his eyes with exhaustion and losing his second wind, what is that again?

Mr. Sawyer said. "I'm glad you are, son. I tell you, I retired from state politics and they still need me to come back occasionally to Albany for meetings."  
"You worked for the state government?" Al asked.  
"In an administrative capacity for the Health Department," Sawyer answered. "Why do you ask?"   
Al turned back to Sawyer. "Can you find someone if I asked you to?"  
"I suppose that I could," Sawyer replied.  
"Waiter," a voice called from the door. Al looked up to see a Western Union messenger. "Coming," Al said. He turned back to Sawyer. "I'll ask about that tomorrow when I'm not so busy."  
Mr. Sawyer the young man leave. "That boy has a good head on his shoulders, but he works too hard. We should leave him a good tip, Marilyn."  
"Oh he'll be richly rewarded, George," Marilyn said not taking her eyes off the younger man's body.

He was about to meet the man at the door when Dottie intercepted him and Mrs. Sawyer touched him on the shoulder. "You know I could help you with that favor tonight," she whispered. "After all, the best way to make my husband approachable is to make me approachable."  
"Won't your husband be home?" Al asked.  
Mrs. Sawyer sighed. "He'll be playing poker with the boys. It will be just me all alone."  
She lightly put her hand on Al's hips slowly moving to his pocket. She had something between her fingers and she slipped it into Al's pocket. Al didn't have to look inside to know that it was a condom. "I can help you find anyone for a price. You can work on the car and give me the information that you need, so you can get both deeds accomplished."  
"And make you happy," Al guessed.  
"Of course you can't get something for nothing," she taunted. "Make sure you're there and I will provide all the help you need."  
Al felt the condom in his pocket. He couldn't lose this chance to find Trudy. "Okay, I'll see you tonight."

"Al," Dottie waved him forward.   
"Excuse me," Al said to the landlady. He approached the brunette waitress and the Western Union messenger.  
"This is Al Calavicci," Dottie said.   
"Mr. Calavicci," the messenger said as Dottie left. "I have a telegram for you."  
Al opened the telegram and felt his heart stop as he read:  
"Al Calavicci  
Your sister Trudy was at Belleville Insitute in Burlington Stop Helped her escape stop At my home on Brant Lake Stop Come soon stop  
Jack Wiley"

Al put his hand to his face in surprise. He allowed a happy tear emerge from his lid and fall down his cheek. He smiled and crumpled the paper to his chest. "Thank God," he said.  
"Is it good news?" the telegram messenger asked.  
"The best news in the world," Al said with a grin.  
Al searched his pocket for a tip, but could only find the five that Katell gave him. "Here," he said handing the bill to him.  
"Sir, I couldn't," the man said.  
"No take it," Al said with delight. "Consider it a gift from the U.S. Army." The messenger smiled and thanked him as he left.  
"Joe," Al said. "I have to leave early for the day. I have a family emergency."  
Joe Manero glared. "You aren't going anywhere, Calavicci!"  
"I have to go, sir," Al said. "I would not leave if it wasn't important!"   
He was right. Al made it a point to never miss work or get off for frivolous reasons. In fact, this was the first time that he left before his shift was over.  
"You are going nowhere," Joe said. "You still have work to do!"  
This argument was pointless. "You're right, I do have work to do," Al said as he untied his apron and took off his name tag. "I quit!" He tossed his manager the notepad and pencil and walked out the door, amidst the smile and applause from his fellow employees and a few customers.  
He then left for the train station to book a trip as close to the address, on the telegram, allowed and then take a cab to be with his sister.

The first to arrive at Jack Wiley's lake house were Dr. And Mrs. Willoughby. They were a well-to-do middle aged couple. The doctor wore a gray suit with a brown vest over his white shirt. Thin eyeglasses pinched his nose and made his hazel eyes seemed smaller. He had balding sandy hair. He appeared stiff and stoic,but there was something in his eyes that showed worry and nervousness.  
His wife had short blonde graying hair and wore a navy Chanel dress. Her pearl necklace shown great style and sophistication, but that she fidgeted with it revealed nervousness. Her expression wasn't as hidden as her husband's. It was clear that her thin face and clear blue eyes were anxious.  
"How is she?" Nora Willoughby asked  
. "She's okay, I mean under the circumstances, but she's been through a lot, a lot that has been unimaginable," Sam said.  
Nora's eyes filled and she looked at her fine heeled shoes. Charles put his hand on his wife's shoulder. "May we see her?" He asked.  
"That's why I sent for you," Sam invited them to enter the house.

The Willoughbys and Sam stood in the sitting room by the door. St. John maintained a respectful distance.   
The door to one of the bedrooms opened and Alia gingerly stepped downstairs holding Joanne by the waist. Verbena stood behind them. The blond girl was dressed in a light blue jumper style dress and white blouse. Her hair hung in a ponytail.   
Alia, Joanne, and Verbena slowly and carefully walked down the stairs. Nora put her hands to her mouth amazed. Charles gave a small smile, but his eyes shone.  
When Joanne reached the final stair, Alia let go of her. Nora walked softly towards her daughter. "Joanne," she said. "Baby, it's really you. Do you know me?"  
Joanne looked upwards and her eyes shone. "Ma-Mama?" She stammered. "Daddy?"   
Nora wept and held her daughter in her arms. Charles approached the mother and daughter and hugged them both. The Willoughbys cried happy tears, glad to be reunited.  
Nora wiped her tears. "We have a surprise for you honey," she said. Charles nodded and left to go to the car.  
Nora explained. "We always sent her crayons, because they were the only art supplies that they would let her have."  
Charles returned to the house with a sketchpad and art supplies including drawing pencils, paint, and brushes. Joanne ran to her mother and father. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She said.  
"We also hope to redesign the attic to make you a personal studio," Charles said. "We want to see work from our dear artist again."  
Joanne smiled, clearly glad to see her parents and be back with her family once again. Nora and Charles led their daughter outside to have some time with her. Alia and Verbena joined them outside maintaining a distance, but being protective over the young girl.

Sam noticed that another bedroom door opened and Trudy emerged. She was still dressed in a white nightgown. When she saw Joanne with her parents, she gave a sad wistful smile. She was clearly happy for her friend, but she had a lost sad look. Sam walked up the stairs and sat next to the young girl. "No Allie?" She asked.  
Sam shook his head. "He's coming, I promise," Sam said. Trudy fell over into a coughing fit and Sam patted her on the back. Her cough was getting worse. Sam felt her forehead. She still felt warm. The girl was still very emotional and Sam couldn't blame her. He suspected that the only thing that kept her from falling into despair was the hope that Al would be with her again. Trudy's eyes filled and she started to cry. Sam held her close. "I'm your brother too remember?" Sam reminded her. Trudy nodded, her face buried in Sam's chest. "I know I'm not Allie, but I will take care of you until he can. I promised him that I would."  
"You will," Trudy asked her voice quivering with sobs.   
"Of course I will," Sam said. "That's what big brothers are for right?"  
"Allie says that too," Trudy said.  
"I know, I remember," Sam told her. He hummed "Hush Little Baby" to her while straightening her hair. "How are you feeling?"  
"Sick," Trudy said. "Head hurts." She coughed and gulped in a way that told Sam that he needed to get her to the toilet. He managed to get her there in time for her to vomit into the bowl. Sam then led her back to bed and tucked her into the covers. She gave Sam a big hug and kiss which he returned. Before Trudy fell asleep, she blew a kiss into the air and wrapped her arms around herself and blew into the air. "Sending kiss and hug to Allie," she said.  
"I'm sure he is sending them right back," Sam assured the girl. He waited until Trudy was fast asleep and made a silent prayer that Al would return and be with her as soon as possible.

A knock at the door interrupted Sam. St. John glanced outside, "A younger man with an older woman," he said. "If I had to wager, and I am not a gambling man, that is Mr. Henry Burton and his mother, Clarice."   
Sam nodded and turned to Trudy. "I have to talk to somebody, honey," he said. "You just lie down and I'll be back soon."  
"'Kay," Trudy said. "I here." She fell asleep.  
The door knocked again as Sam walked downstairs. He saw a dark haired prep looking man in his late twenties dressed in a Brooks Brothers blue suit. His expression clearly showed worry and concern. He ran his hands through his hair. Next to him was a severe looking stately older woman looking imperiously down at Sam. She was dressed in a fashionable blue travel suit and a pearl necklace. Unlike Henry Burton and The Willoughbys, she did not look concerned, nervous, or worried. In fact, she looked like this trip was a huge imposition on her part.  
"Mr. Wiley," the man said. "My name is Henry Burton and you have information about my wife?"  
"This is a complete waste of time," Mrs. Burton said.   
"Mother please," Henry corrected.  
"Yes, I do," Sam said. "Come inside." He held open the door to lead them inside. He met Alia at the door. The two exchanged a wordless agreement that she would talk to the Willoughbys and Sam would talk to the Burtons.

Alia sat in the backyard at a picnic table with Dr. and Mrs. Willoughby seated across from her. Joanne was in their view as she sat on a nearby bench sketching the lake that lay across from her.  
Alia told the couple the truth about Joanne's confinement including the abuse, molestation, and the planned lobotomy. "Listen I know you have no reason to believe me or my colleague," Alia said. "But you must know that we care very much about Joanne and we wouldn't lie about something like this."  
Nora and Charles looked sadly at each other. "We believe you, Nurse Marcus," Charles said.  
"We were fooling ourselves," Nora said. "We thought that maybe we were the problem that maybe if Joanne wasn't with us and was cared for in a hospital, she would be cured." Her eyes filled. "There is no cure is there?"  
"We had her institutionalized after she attacked her nurse," Charles explained. "We didn't learn until later that the nurse had provoked her."  
Alia caught her breath. "Listen Joanne's illness isn't yours or anyone's fault. Her mind is just different. It's none of my business but I know that's hard on you and her too. She isn't someone who should be put away or ignored. She needs your acceptance and love. No matter what, she is your daughter. Above all, people at that hospital should not get away with treating their patients like that."  
"You're absolutely right, Nurse Marcus," Charles said. "There is a colleague of mine, a good man that feels differently about the mentally ill. He has been an advocate against such practices as shock therapy. He favors a more cognitive and pharmacological approach to such treatment. We should have Joanne talk to him when we return home to Saratoga Springs."  
Nora nodded. "We definitely will have to charge that McKendrick and his colleagues for this. He won't get away with treating another patient like that."   
Alia smiled. "Joanne's very lucky to have parents like you. I only wish that... other patients were as fortunate."  
Joanne shyly approached her mother and father. Charles rose and allowed his daughter to sit between them. Even though she was 20, Joanne smiled like a small child glad to be with her parents. Charles gave his daughter's shoulder a tight squeeze and Nora kissed her daughter on the forehead. Alia and Verbena exchanged happy smiles at the loving scene.

"Suicide?" Henry said. He blanched.  
Clarice Burton glared at this stranger. "You don't believe this man do you, Henry? Dr. Rupert McKendrick has a fine reputation! We don't know him!" She said witheringly at Sam.  
"I know this is hard but I'm telling the truth," Sam said. "I tried to revive her myself. It was suicide."  
"Preposterous," Clarice said. "How do we know that you just aren't here to besmirch our good name by bringing us down with that disturbed depraved woman!"  
"Because I believe him, Mother," Henry said. "I knew something was wrong. She never got my letters. They wouldn't let me visit her. She loved to read and write. She said it was her way of making up for the education that she didn't have. Many a time, I would see her writing in her diary or when I was away, she would send notes filled with literary allusions or metaphor. Even after we...lost the first baby, she wrote poems and circled passages about her sadness. Then when Rosemary was born, her words were filled with happiness and love. She had so little of it in her past. Then after she was institutionalized, she never wrote back. The few letters that I did get were plain, vague, cold, nothing like how she used to write. I had a feeling someone was keeping her from writing."   
"I'm very sorry," Sam said. "I can tell that you and Rosemary meant a lot to her."  
"She meant everything to us," Henry said. "What am I going to tell her?"  
"Tell her what you just told me now," Sam suggested. "Tell her what a bright eloquent woman she was and how much she loved her husband and her daughter. Then when she is old enough, tell her the truth."  
"There is no need to lie, Henry," Clarice said severely as she stood. "She was a whore and the daughter of a whore! She had multiple affairs and was a weak minded fool who took her life rather than face the truth that she couldn't stay faithful to her husband! If Rupert McKendrick did what this man claimed, then she clearly put him up to it! She was an embarrassment and deserves to be forgotten!"  
"Mother," Henry rose. "For once in your life, sit down and be quiet!" Clarice sat back down and Sam silently gave the man three cheers. Henry continued. "I will not let you malign my wife with your tongue and if you wish to have your granddaughter, your only grandchild, to remain in your life then you will not say one more hateful or derogatory word about her mother!  
Dolores was a wonderful woman who yes had a difficult start in life. I knew what her mother was and I knew she wanted to get out. I also knew that life and her mother's death left their marks upon her. She felt things and had emotions that were stronger than most people. She tried hard to be a perfect wife, but took herself too seriously. Took things to heart too much. None of that meant that I didn't love her! We were happy together and I had no doubt that she was faithful, but well..I was away when our first child would have been conceived. I knew there was no way, but I would have raised it as my own and not thought about it. I wanted to tell her that, but then she had that session with Dr. McKendrick and the situation was put out of my hands. I thought it was a miscarriage, but from what you told me-it wasn't was it?" Sam's look told him everything. "I thought after Rosemary was born, she would be better but she became more depressed. When she tried to hurt herself, I agreed to have her institutionalized. I blame myself. If she had been with me-"   
Sam held the man by the shoulder. "-It's a hard thing to live with and I think she was just in so much pain that she couldn't see beyond that. In her own way, maybe she didn't want to put you or Rosemary through any more of it. She wanted you to remember her as she was. I don't know if anything I said helped."  
"It did, Mr. Wiley," Henry said. "Now what will I do?"  
"Well sometimes in their grief, people find a means to act," Sam suggested. "You can keep other people from going through the same struggles."  
"Embarrassment is what drives them away," Henry said. "Embarrassment and shame. We aren't the only family that has a spouse or relative hidden away somewhere that we don't want to talk about. A Harvard classmate of mine has a sister who was given a botched lobotomy and now resides in a private residence at their compound in Massachusetts. They aren't shameful secrets. They are sick, unhappy, damaged mostly because they are ignored. I won't let them be."  
Clarice glared silently but found nothing further to say. "That's a good start," Sam said.

The Burtons left a few hours after they arrived. Henry was filled with ideas and he and the Willoughbys agreed to file a joint suit against Belleville Insitute for the Mentally Ill. Mrs. Willoughby and Joanne waited while doctor examined Trudy. (To thank them for reuniting him and his wife with their daughter, he decided to look "after the other girl.")  
He put a tongue depresser on the girl's mouth and checked her lungs and heartbeat with a stethoscope. After looking her up and down, he shook his head. "She has pneumonia. She'll need plenty of bed rest and juice. Can you manage that?" He asked her.  
"Yep," Trudy said with a nod.  
"But that's not what concerns me," the doctor said.  
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.  
"Well I hate to be an alarmist,but the poor neglectful treatment combined with her uh physical disability has severely weakened her," the doctor said.  
"And Joanne?" Sam asked.  
"Well Joanne will be fine physically. Mentally and emotionally of course are different stories," Charles said. "She doesn't produce the same physical issues that Trudy has because of her limited development. Trudy won't recover physically, mentally, or emotionally. There will have to be more tests, but her immunity is underdeveloped. Her respiratory system is weakened and her heartbeat is irregular."  
"Is she dying?" Sam asked.  
"It's hard to say for now," the doctor said. "She won't have a long life that I can be certain. Does she have a family?"  
Sam nodded. "She has a brother in New York City. I sent for him."  
"Then you better hope he gets her soon," the doctor said.

After the Willoughbys were sent out, Sam looked at the door. He lightly kicked it. "It isn't fair," Sam said to St. John. "I promised Al! I promised him that she wouldn't die a second time! She's going to die anyway!"  
"Maybe, maybe not, Samuel," St. John assured him. He didn't have the same sympathies that Al did when he was Sam's Observer. He was a more rational person, but he was still just as kind in his own way. "There is still a less than 35% that Trudy Calavicci does survive."  
"That's not very much, St. John," Sam said.  
"No, but the 65% that says the alternative, says that she will not die alone," St. John said. "That her brother will be by her side when she dies."  
"A very cold comfort," Sam said.  
"But it's the only one that I can give for now," the hologram said.

Later that night, the Leapers and Observers discussed the changed outlook. "The good news is that within five years Belleville gets shut down. The patients either get sent to other hospitals or to their families. Unfortunately, some have nowhere to go," Verbena said.  
"What kind of a happy ending is that?" Alia asked.  
"With a big job like this, all we can do is count the victories that we are given, both short and long term," Verbena said.  
"The Willoughbys and Henry Burton lead the charge," St. John said. "In fact Rosemary later becomes a clinical psychologist partly inspired by her mother's struggles."  
"That's great," Sam said.  
"And Joanne?" Alia asked.  
"She becomes a very talented artist," Verbena said. "Though unmarried, she has a daughter, Laura. Sadly, she dies in a car accident at age 40, but Laura runs an art gallery and promotes others' works including her mother's. Joanne Willoughby becomes quite a legend in postmodernism art."  
"Well that's good," Alia said.  
"That is not all," St. John said. "If you toss a pebble into the water, sometimes it amazes you how large the ripples grow. Do you by any chance know who that classmate of Henry Burton's is, the one with the sister? You may have heard of him, Robert Kennedy."  
"Kennedy," Sam asked amazed.  
Verbena nodded, "Indeed, his friends' actions inspire Mr. Kennedy to get the unfortunate Willowbrook Institute shut down and his sister, Eunice Kennedy Shriver later creates a non-profit organization called The Special Olympics in which mentally, intellectually, and physically challenged individuals participate in athletic competitions and put themselves forward. Also the American Disabilities Association is created to give people rights and protection that they didn't have."  
Sam and Alia smiled. "That's very good news," Sam said.  
St. John looked at the handlink. "Indeed but something concerns me."  
"Like why haven't we leapt yet?" Alia asked.  
"That and I am still here," St. John said. "So nothing about Mr. Calavicci has changed. In fact it surprises me that he takes no part in the suit or any other activities. According to you, Samuel, he reported a conspiracy towards his sister's death before it was publically known."  
"Yeah," Sam said. "He told the police and they didn't believe him. No way would he miss out on that."  
"Indeed," St. John said. "That concerns me. It also concerns me that the likelihood of Dr. McKendrick's death by gunshot has gone up as well as Trudy dying with Al by her side."  
"Does Al still disappear?" Sam ask.  
"He appears to," St. John said. "Him with Trudy is the last news reporter of him."  
Alia cupped her chin in thought. "Something else, Sam. I only saw her for a couple of minutes but I didn't see Zoey leap out of Grady Matthews, did you?"  
"No I didn't," Sam said.   
Alia said. "I assumed that Zoey was there to keep us from helping Trudy and Joanne escape but if she didn't leap out when we left then-"  
The four shared one thought. Sam spoke for them. "This isn't over."

A knock made the four jump with fright. They glanced at each other with slight smiles and nervous laughter. "If I know my horror movies, that will be either Zoey or a serial killer," Alia quipped.  
Sam looked through the window. He smiled at the person at the door. He knew that dark curly hair, the eyebrows, dark eyes, the sardonic mouth, and skinny build anywhere. True he was wearing dark pants, a black sweatshirt, and leather jacket and wasn't dressed in his usual bright flashy clothes, and smoked a cigarette not his customary cigars.  
He opened the door, "Bingo," he said.  
The young man looked confused for a minute, but he held up the telegram. "What are you-? You're Wiley? I'm Al Calavicci and I'm here to see my sister."


End file.
